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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

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BeeTober 2020 Day 23

Pyjama - Letter

Letter already was a prompt this month, but luckily this word has two meanings and now it gets to be the thing that gets Mingcheng together.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure how he suddenly ends up being alone with Nie Mingjue but he would certainly like to change that fact. Because Nie Mingjue makes him nervous and Jiang Cheng isn’t even sure why.

“So,” Jiang Cheng awkwardly starts when it’s clear that no one will be coming back any time soon and Jiang Cheng curses his brother. And Nie Huaisang. And Lan Wangji. And Lan Xichen.

Because all of them just abandoned Jiang Cheng with the most imposing man he knows and Jiang Cheng has no idea how to handle that.

“I wonder if Huaisang and Lan Xichen are going to regret joining Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji soon,” Jiang Cheng muses, desperately fishing for anything to say.

“Why would they?” Nie Mingjue asks, still seated on the couch as if he’s not at all bothered to be left alone with Jiang Cheng.

“With how Lan Wangji can’t seem to keep his hands to himself when it comes to my brother?” Jiang Cheng asks and is surprised when Nie Mingjue laughs at him.

“Have you seen Huaisang and Xichen together?” he asks and Jiang Cheng has to admit that he hasn’t.

He knows they are a thing—however recently it may be—but he didn’t need to know that.

“And I really wish I will never,” Jiang Cheng says with a frown when the full meaning of Nie Mingjue hits him and Nie Mingjue laughs again.

Jiang Cheng can’t seem to drag his eyes away from him.

“You don’t mind it?” he asks, once Nie Mingjue calmed down again and Jiang Cheng sits back down on the couch next to him.

If two pairs have split off, then Jiang Cheng knows better than to hope for any kind of rescue. He’ll just have to push through the fluttering feeling in his stomach and be a good host to Nie Mingjue.

He probably didn’t mean to be left alone with Jiang Cheng either.

“Xichen is my best friend. I’ve known him for almost all of my life. If I can’t trust him with my little brother’s heart, then who else?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng can see his logic.

They spend a few minutes of almost comfortable silence together, before Jiang Cheng sighs.

“You’ll probably have to sleep here, tonight,” he then says to Nie Mingjue who shrugs like it’s no big deal to him.

Nie Huaisang was supposed to room with Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were supposed to stay together, but Jiang Cheng guesses that’s off the table now.

“I don’t mind,” Nie Mingjue says, even though he eyes Jiang Cheng critically. “As long as you don’t mind it, either,” he adds and Jiang Cheng manages a smile for him.

“I don’t,” he gives back, and the fluttering in his stomach wants to proof him a liar, but Jiang Cheng pushes it away.

Nie Mingjue is not so scary as to warrant that kind of reaction from Jiang Cheng. He might not know Nie Mingjue for as long as he knows Lan Xichen or Nie Huaisang—or at least he doesn’t know him as well as he does the other two—but he knows enough about him to at least not to be afraid of him.

Nie Huaisang always calls Nie Mingjue a big softie, and neither Lan Xichen nor Nie Mingjue himself contradict his words so there must be some truth to them.

“Okay, then,” Nie Mingjue shrugs, clearly done with that topic and then gets up before he freezes.

“What?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and Nie Mingjue grimaces at him.

“My bag is still in the other room,” Nie Mingjue says, and he sounds pained.

It takes Jiang Cheng a moment to understand why, but when he does, he grimaces, too.

“You better not go back there,” he says and he shivers with just the thought of what Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen might be getting up to in there.

“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue says and eyes his clothes critically. “Guess I’ll have to sleep like this then,” he sighs and he seems fully resigned to that fact.

“Don’t be stupid,” Jiang Cheng snaps out and flushes slightly when Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if they are at that acquaintance level where he can just be his usual rude self around Nie Mingjue, but he guesses that ship has sailed now anyway. Might as well embrace it, Jiang Cheng thinks.

“As if I’m going to let you sleep in this,” Jiang Cheng grumbles and turns around from Nie Mingjue. “I think I might have a spare toothbrush laying around as well,” Jiang Cheng muses, and he goes looking for that first.

“Aha!” he yells in triumph when he unearths it from a drawer and he throws it over to Nie Mingjue who catches it easily.

“Might as well get started with that, I will have to search for something that might fit you,” Jiang Cheng says, and he eyes Nie Mingjue critically.

He really does pack a lot of muscles. Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he even has anything in his size, but he will look for it.

As soon as he manages to drag his eyes away from the way Nie Mingjue’s biceps moves as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“See something you like?” Nie Mingjue asks him, one eyebrow raised and Jiang Cheng jerks his eyes away from him.

“Sorry,” he rambles out and almost throws himself head-first into the wardrobe.

He could swear he hears Nie Mingjue chuckle at him, but when Jiang Cheng feels composed enough to turn back around to him Nie Mingjue has left for the bathroom already.

Jiang Cheng lets out a sigh, scolds himself for acting this disrespectful and then almost overhauls his whole wardrobe in search of something that could fit Nie Mingjue.

The only thing he finds that could, maybe, fit him is one of the pyjamas Jiang Cheng gets from some distant relative every Christmas, because they are always at least two sizes to big on him. So maybe they are just big enough to not cut off any circulation on Nie Mingjue.

At least Jiang Cheng hopes it fits, because if not, then Nie Mingjue will have to sleep in some boxers and not much else and Jiang Cheng doesn’t even want to think about why that thought makes him flush.

When Nie Mingjue comes back, Jiang Cheng presents the pyjama to him.

“This is all I could find,” he tells Nie Mingjue who shrugs and takes the offered clothes.

He’s just about to shed his clothes, Jiang Cheng can tell, and he has half a mind simply running away because that thought makes some heat pool low in his belly but then Nie Mingjue hesitates.

Jiang Cheng frowns, but it takes him a while to see what stilled Nie Mingjue.

“Ah, that,” Jiang Cheng says, when he sees how Nie Mingjue moves his thumb over a letter that was stitched onto the pyjama.

“Is that a W or an M?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“It’s a W,” he admits and Nie Mingjue looks questioningly at him.

“What does it stand for?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue.

He doesn’t like telling people about his courtesy name, mostly because no one ever uses it anyway, and by now it almost feels unfamiliar to Jiang Cheng. He doesn’t even know if he would react to it, if someone would be calling him Jiang Wanyin. It just doesn’t feel like his name.

But Nie Mingjue keeps looking questioningly at him and in the end Jiang Cheng folds under that curious stare.

“It’s for my courtesy name, not that anyone is using it,” he finally says.

“What is it?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly not satisfied by that answer and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Wanyin,” he says. “Don’t bother remembering it,” he then tacks on, but Nie Mingjue is not paying him any attention anymore.

“Jiang Wanyin,” he whispers and moves his thumb over the letter again. “Wanyin,” he says then, just as softly, and Jiang Cheng’s heart beats heavily in his chest.

Oh, he thinks with sudden panic, because there are butterflies in his belly and a warmth in his chest and he is entirely unprepared for how his name sounds from Nie Mingjue’s lips like that.

“Oh,” he breathes out when the feelings don’t stop assaulting him and when Nie Mingjue’s gaze snaps towards his at that, Jiang Cheng finally realizes that he has a crush on Nie Mingjue.

Might even be in love with him, going by his visceral reaction.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng furiously whispers and turns around to leave.

He doesn’t deal well with emotions, and especially not ones he was entirely unprepared for, and he would like to freak out over this on his own, thank you very much.

Once safely locked into the bathroom, Jiang Cheng sinks to the floor, a groan making it past his lips, and he scrambles for his phone.

He can suddenly guess why the other two pairs have vanished like that.

You fuckers, he types out into the chat he has with Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, and it’s not long at all, before they answer.

Did it work? Nie Huaisang asks.

I don’t want to know any details, but did it? Wei Wuxian types out next and Jiang Cheng almost crushes the phone in his hand.

Fuck you both, he types back and is met with a string of emojis from Wei Wuxian.

My brother would rather have you fuck him, I’m sure, Nie Huaisang tells him and Jiang Cheng’s face goes hot in an instant.

That’s—a thought he didn’t have yet and he’s not at all equipped to handle that.

Jiang Cheng drops the phone, not willing to read any more lewd comments and puts his head into his hands. He doesn’t know what to do now, doesn’t know how to face Nie Mingjue now that he realized his feelings and maybe Jiang Cheng can just spend the night on the floor here.

It would surely be the safer option.

“Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue carefully asks as he knocks at the door a good five minutes later. “Is everything alright?”

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters, because Nie Mingjue does sound concerned and that name still makes a shiver go down Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng calls back once he took a few deep breathes and then he forces himself to stand up.

It’s not like he can hide in here forever, he decides. And going by what Nie Huaisang wrote, he might not have to fear a gentle let-down when he steps back outside.

Jiang Cheng’s hands are just shaking the slightest bit when he unlocks the door and Nie Mingjue is still waiting for him right there and Jiang Cheng’s breath catches in his throat.

Fuck, he really is handsome.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Nie Mingjue asks with a small frown and Jiang Cheng itches to smooth it out with his thumb.

“I am,” Jiang Cheng gives back, putting his hands into his pockets, lest he does something stupid with them, and he gives Nie Mingjue something that he hopes counts as a winning smile.

Going by Nie Mingjue’s look it’s not all that effective.

“My brother said something, didn’t he?” Nie Mingjue says and he scrubs a hand over his face. “I told him not to, I’m sorry.”

“No, I said something first,” Jiang Cheng says without thinking and Nie Mingjue freezes.

“What do you mean ‘first’?”

Jiang Cheng would really rather hide and his heart beating as fast as it does is no help to him either, but if Jiang Cheng reads all of these signs correctly then Nie Mingjue is very much interested in him.

And Jiang Cheng can’t let an opportunity like that pass.

“I mean that I might have realized that I’m in love with you when you said my name like that,” he bravely pushes on and is not at all prepared for the wicked look in Nie Mingjue’s eyes at his words.

“Wanyin?” he says, his voice deliberately soft, and a new shiver works its way down Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yeah,” he weakly says and Nie Mingjue chuckles.

“If I had known that would be all it takes, I would have done it a lot sooner,” he casually says, as if he’s not blowing Jiang Cheng’s mind completely by implying that he’s been in love with him for a while now.

“Now is also good,” Jiang Cheng gives back, though it almost comes out like a question, and Nie Mingjue goes serious almost in an instant.

“It’s more than good,” he says and cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek with one of his large hands. “This okay, Wanyin?” he whispers as he leans forward and Jiang Cheng can’t help the small gasp he lets out.

Nie Mingjue’s lips twitch up in a smile, but before he can laugh at Jiang Cheng’s reaction, Jiang Cheng brings their lips together.

It’s a very gratifying feeling when Nie Mingjue makes a surprised sound against his lips as well and it only prompts Jiang Cheng to press closer.

He’s not at all prepared for the soft look on Nie Mingjue’s face when they part, and so instead he buries his face in Nie Mingjue’s neck.

“Still okay?” Nie Mingjue carefully asks him and Jiang Cheng is quick to nod.

“More than,” he mutters and presses a fluttering kiss to Nie Mingjue’s pulse point.

Jiang Cheng vows to still yell at Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian for this, but he probably has to do it over thank-you-drinks, not that he minds that much.

Especially not when Nie Mingjue buries his face in Jiang Cheng’s hair and puts one of his hands on his hips.

Oh no; that Jiang Cheng doesn’t mind at all.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #modern au #getting together #realization of feelings #fluff #first kiss

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schrijverr · 3 years

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'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 8 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: brief mention of loss

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 8: Red Tulip Means ‘Declaration of Love’

“Alex,” Thomas smiled broadly.

“Yup, that’s me,” Alex grinned, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought food. And that I am barging in on you. I know that birthdays aren’t really your thing, but I did want to do something, so I thought I’d keep it small, but if it’s not okay then-”

Thomas crushed him into a hug, cutting him off: “You’re such a doll, thank you.”

Muffled Alex replied: “No problem,” he wanted to add ‘did it with love,’ but he didn’t want to make it weird, even if it was true.

“I’m glad you didn’t throw a big party or anything,” Thomas said, stepping back and squeezing his the base of his neck before letting go completely and inviting him, “Here, come in.”

He lead Alex over to the couch and got them both something to drink, while Alex set the food out on the table and started up the TV.

When Thomas sat down, Alex said: “You get to pick the movie, but first unwrap this,” as he handed him the small flat, neatly wrapped package.

“Did you wrap this?” Thomas asked, slightly surprised with disbelief tainting his voice.

“Are you saying I couldn't?” Alex sounded offended, but not that seriously.

“I don’t know, you don’t seem the wrapping type,” Thomas shrugged.

“I’ll have you know that I am the king in gift wrapping. The only one better than me in wrapping is Eliza and she can happily have my crown,” Alex said, slightly too proud of the minor achievement, which was adorable.

Thomas chuckled: “Okay, okay, I believe you.”

“Years of practice, baby,” Alex flexed his little noodle arms.

That elicited a snort out of Thomas, who just shook his head with a smile as he carefully started unwrapping the gift.

Alex watched it for a moment, before he couldn't take it. He had promised himself to wait until Thomas’s birthday was over, but this was just too far: “Oh my God, why are you unwrapping it like that? How old are you again? Sixty?”

“Not you too,” Thomas practically wailed.

“I wasn’t going to say it… today,” Alex protested, “But- I mean, come on, with the tape and the saving the wrapping paper.”

“Ugh, excuse me for not tearing it apart like a monster,” Thomas guffawed.

“It’s kinda funny…” Alex bit his lip, “Old man.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t, but I thought you were on my side, not with James, Laf and Angelica,” Thomas pouted.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be on team cool, when you’re on the other team,” Alex teased, poking Thomas in the side.

The pout deepened: “You’re so mean to me.”

“Yet, I still got you a gift, so forgive and forget,” Alex offered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Thomas said, going back to carefully unwrapping the gift, not changing his ways and taking his sweet time just because he could.

In the the wrapping paper was a pink book with lungs with flowers growing in them on the cover. On the top it said in cursive ‘a poetry collection’ and the title was: i saw you as a flower, written by Ellen Everet.

“I still have the receipt if you don’t like it, but I know you like to try new authors and I saw it and I thought of you,” Alex rambled.

He once again got cut off by a hug, this time paired with a kiss.

Thomas couldn't express how touched he was by the gift. It was both cute and thoughtful, with a reference to a little thing they did and tied to something he liked to do. Only James had given him such a personal gift in the past seven years.

“You’re so good to me,” Thomas whispered, “I want to keep you forever, you precious little thing.”

“Forever?” Alex whispered back, a little hopeful yet cautious.

It only then clicked for Thomas what he had actually said. He flushed and started to backtrack: “I mean- I don’t- no-” then remembered his conversation with James, “Well, I would be up for it, but just a boyfriend would be nice for now.”

Immediately Alex’s frame relaxed and he beamed. He leaned into Thomas’s side and said: “That does sound nice.”

“So, does that- do you- do you want that?” Thomas had to double check, a voice in his mind telling him to not believe it.

“Yeah, yeah, I would,” Alex smiled, “I’m actually glad you spoke up first, isn’t that sad? Me, always opinions everywhere, never quiet.”

“Hey, we all have our moment and I won’t have you bad mouth my boyfriend,” there were flutters in his stomach just saying that and he saw them reflected in Alex’s eyes.

“Sap,” Alex pushed him over.

He stuck out his tongue and retorted: “It’s your sap now.”

“Yeah, my sap,” Alex repeated giddily.

Thomas sat up again, quickly leafing through the book: “But really, thanks for this, I’m definitely reading it,” before putting it to the side and pulling Alex close to him, “I say we watch The Breakfast Club.”

“I love that movie,” Alex smiled, putting it on, before settling againstThomas’s heart.

Thomas noticed Alex did this thing where he wiggled under his arm and made himself small against his side. He wasn’t sure if Alex knew he did it, but he always looked so content tucked into Thomas’s side, so Thomas couldn't bring himself to say anything about it with the risk that Alex stopped.

The opening of the movie rolled and Thomas just held Alex against his side, warmth that he could say he was cuddling with his boyfriend.

When Thomas awoke the next morning it was with a still asleep Alex tucked against his side in the bed. He smiled softly and tucked Alex’s hair behind his ear and placing a kiss on the forehead of his boyfriend.

He smiled at that and tightened his grip on Alex, the man starting to stir with that. Blearily he blinked and asked: “Wha’s going on?”

“Hey there, sleepy head,” Thomas replied, “We have work today, you need to get up.”

Alex groaned and burrowed his face in Thomas’s chest: “But you’re so comfy.”

Thomas chuckled lightly, but Alex looked to adorable to argue with him. His hair was a mess and his eyes half closed as he curled into himself and tugged the pillow over his head slightly. So he said: “I’m making coffee, you can come down in a few minutes and I’ll pour you a cup.”

A small smile made its way onto Alex’s face and he mumbled: “So good to me,” before rolling over once more.

At that Thomas rolled his eyes then he got out of the bed and got dressed, before padding his way downstairs. There was a lightness in his step after yesterday and he felt better than he had in a while, like he could do anything.

He stopped at Martha’s photo in the kitchen. He didn’t have many pictures, but he had a few Martha’s around the house. He smiled at her and said: “God, if you could see me now, you’d be so proud of me for being happy.”

Behind him Alex watched him, still in his pajamas. He smiled softly, before retreating, not wanting to intrude on the moment. He hadn’t noticed the pictures the first time he was there, but he was glad that Thomas had at least something.

A few minutes later he came back, fully dressed this time, and pecked Thomas on the cheek as he greeted him: “Good morning.”

“Ah, awake now, are we?” Thomas teased, planting a quick kiss on Alex’s lips and handing him a mug that Alex took gratefully.

“Yeah,” Alex said, “Slept well again, didn’t want to let it go just yet.”

“Hm, you usually seem to sleep well, that not true?” Thomas frowned, the answer prickling something in his mind.

Alex looked up from his mug, confused, before smiling softly and explaining: “I usually wake up early, with Pip and just general bad sleepinghabits, but having someone next to me makes it easier to sleep.”

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, glad that he could help Alex to sleep like a normal person. The man had enough bad habits as it was.

They moved throughthe morning, gathering their stuff and getting in Alex’s car, Thomas deciding he could get back on his own after work, since Alex was goingto pick up Philip from Eliza after work.

It was the first time they came together since they started flirting. Normally when one stayed the night it was in the weekend, but despite some of the looks they got, it didn’t feel weird. It was just the next step and both were excited to take it.

One of the people that noticed was Angelica, who pulled Alex into her office, eyebrows wiggling: “So, Alex, how was the birthday boy?”

“Shut up, it was nothing like that. We stayed the night together before, you know,” Alex rolled his eyes at her, hoping he wasn’t blushing.

“But Pip was in the house then,” Angelica protested.

“And there have been times he was not,” Alex countered.

“Come on, give me something,” Angelica shook his arm, “I see in your eyes that something big has happened. Tell me.”

Alex contemplated letting her splutter a bit more, but it wasn’t necessary, because she threatened: “I am willing to break my promise to never mention Hammy the Cat to Thomas.”

“Okay, okay, calm down, I was going to tell you anyway,” he said, then grinned, “I just got a boyfriend, so tha-”

“What?” Angelica shook him even harder, “You made it official?”

He nodded excitedly, before saying: “I’m gonna tell Eliza when I see her, but I don’t know who Thomas is telling and I don’t wanna be weird about it, so try to keep it on the down low, okay? It’s not a secret or anything, just don’t go yelling it off the roof.”

“Of course,” Angelica promised, “God, ‘Lexi, I’m so excited for you.”

“Me too, Angie, me too.”

They chatted a bit more, before Alex couldn't justify wasting work time to himself anymore and they split ways to get to work.

Meanwhile Thomas had barely made himself comfortable behind his desk when his phone went off, he had put the sound on because it was his birthday the day before and forgotten to turn it off again. He saw the caller ID and sighed, it was his mom, he couldn't ignore her again.

He picked up with a: “Hi, Ma, how are you?”

“I would be better if I had a son that could pick up on his birthday so that I could congratulate him properly, but we can’t have everything, I suppose,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“Sorry, Ma, I got caught up and missed you,” he explained.

“Well, congratulations anyway,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Did you have a fun day, with the getting caught up in things, I hope it were good things,” she went on, “Because if they made you work overtime on your birthday I’m having words with Washington, I don’t care how good of a boss he is.”

“No, it was good, don’t worry, Ma,” Thomas assured her.

“Yeah, what were you doing? I barely talk to you these days, tell me what’s going on in your life.”

Thomas cringed at that, he had run off to France after Martha’s death and with her buried in Virginia, he had been avoiding his home and family for a while now. He made an excuse: “I’m at work right now.”

“And I am your mother, you can spare me a few minutes,” she said, “Are you still coming to Monticello this summer?”

“Yeah, I’m still coming to Monticello,” Thomas confirmed, he felt bad about ignoring her and he wanted to go home again.

“Good, I miss having you around.”

“I know, Ma,” Thomas felt guilty about not telling her about Alex. She had done a lot for him as a single mother of nine after his dad had died, he could see with Alex how much work it could be. He could spare a few moments to talk to her about everything.

He cleared his throat and said: “Actually, I missed you, because- uhm, my- my boyfriend had gotten me flowers and in the evening he came by to watch a movie together, so I wasn’t on my phone much yesterday.”

“A boyfriend?” she repeated, a bit of delight in her voice.

“Yeah,” he was blushing, “it’s kinda recent thing, well, maybe not, but it wasn’t really official until yesterday, so you’re still the first to hear about it. Sort of.”

“Tommy, I’m so happy for you,” she sounded really glad for him, which was a weight off his shoulders, “After Martha, I never thought I’d hear you sound like that.”

“Me neither,” Thomas confessed.

“Want to tell me about this mystery boy?”

“His name is Alex,” Thomas started softly, suddenly shy, “I know him from work. He’s also friends with Laf and Angelica.”

“Well, I trust Laf and Angie to have good taste,” he could hear the smile in her voice and suddenly he missed her so much.

He chuckled and blinked away tears suddenly welling up. God, he hadn’t been home in ages, having skipped last Christmas.

“What makes this Alex boyfriend material?” his Maasked.

Thomas knew the answer to that: “He can keep up with me in conversation, always keeping me on my toes, yet it’s so easy to talk with him. He’s just filled with passion and it’s amazing to see, but he’s totally different and gentle in other moments. Like with Philip, his son, it’s whack to see.”

“He has a child?”

“Yeah,” Thomas hesitated, “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no,” his Maassured him, “Just make sure you don’t get caught up in a divorce mess.”

“Oh, no, Ma, he’s a widower.”

It was quiet for a moment, then his Mareplied: “I’m sorry for his loss, how terrible. Did it happen recently?”

“Almost five years now,” Thomas answered, he knew why she asked. She wanted to know if he wasn’t being used to get through grief. He was touched by her concerned, but knew that wasn’t the case.

“So, I’m getting an grandchild,” she swiftly moved on, satisfied with his answer.

“You already have grandchildren,” Thomas laughed.

“But now I also have a grandson,” she told him.

“If everything goes alright, yeah.”

“You’re gonna be- I’m happy for you,” she said, “I would love to meet them sometime, ask if they want to come to Monticello this summer.”

“I-” Thomas didn’t know what to respond to that, sure, it was a few months away, but that was a big ask and maybe way to fast, “I- I’ll ask him,” he finally decided on.

“Good,” he could practically see his mother nodding, “I’ll let you get back to work now. Don’t forget to call me from time to time.”

“I’ll try,” and he promised to himself to actually try.

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Bye, Ma.”

After he hung up, he sat in his office for a moment, mulling over the conversation. It felt good to tell his Maand the conversation had made him more convicted in how much he wanted this relationship to stay.

He worked ‘till lunch then went over to Alex’s office, opening the door and greeting: “Hi, you hungry yet?”

Alex looked up from his furious typing and smiled. He stopped typing completely and replied: “Ah, my wonderful boyfriend, with food offerings.”

It was clear he said that just because he wanted to say boyfriend and Thomas couldn't help the grin that painted on his face, though he still teased: “Oh, am I really nothing more than food to you? I see how it is.”

“You got other qualities too,” Alex assured him, before teasing, “Like- like- oh, this is harder than I thought.”

“Dick.”

Alex just blew him a kiss and Thomas decided to drop it. He watched Alex put his work to the side and felt pride in his chest. When they’d first started eating lunch together, Alex would keep getting distracted by his work, but now he packed it away without needing a reminder.

They ate lunch and argued about which came first: the chicken or the egg. Thomas decided chicken, while Alex was in camp egg, all sparked by the egg on Thomas’s sandwich.

At the end, he did tell Alex about telling his mother after she called, which Alex was luckily cool about it. He just told Thomas that it was cool he had a mom and he should cherish the contact he had with her. However, he hadn’t yet asked him to go to Monticello with him, that felt a bit too soon.

After Thomas’s birthday they gradually fell into a new rhythm, wherein Thomas was over at Alex’s house from Thursday afternoon to Monday morning.

When Alex had to pick up Philip on Fridays. He was home earlier, so he would cook, while Thomas would cook on Thursday, since Alex would have to swing by whoever had picked up Philip that day. Though Thomas would pick up Philip from his Aunties and Uncles often enough.

They hadn’t even fully noticed how embedded they were into each others lives until Alex had a late last minute meeting on a Tuesday, right as he was about to leave to pick up Philip.

“No one is there to pick up Pip,” he said to Thomas the moment he’d heard about the meeting, “Oh fuck, Washington will kick my ass if I miss this meeting. Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“I’ll pick him up,” Thomas had offered it before thinking about it.

“You?” Alex took a moment to let the offer sink in, “That’s- that’s perfect, oh fuck, thanks. Thank you so so much.”

“Hey, no problem, might as well at this point,” Thomas assured him, only now realizing he’d never picked up Philip from schoolbefore.

“And you’re sure you don’t have anything important that’ll get between you and picking up Pip?” with anyone else it would sound like distrust, but Thomas knew how much Alex worried and cared about Philip’s well being.

“Nah, everyone who could need me is in your meeting, I’m just lucky I have nothing to do with your little project,” Thomas replied, “I just need a note from you with a signature stating it’s okay for me to take Pip with me, might be a bit awkward otherwise.”

Alex snorted at that, before quickly penning it down and repeating the school and address along with the time school was out.

Before Thomas was out the office, Alex stopped him with a quick kiss: “You’re the best, thank you so much.”

“No problem, go kick ass in your meeting, darlin’,” Thomas smiled.

He got a thumbs up in return as Alex spun on his heel and sped off, leaving Thomas to make his way to his car and drive to Philip’s school after emailing Washington about the situation.

Thomas parked in front of the building and walked to the front desk, note in hand where he interrupted the sectary in her typing: “Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas, I’m here to pick up Philip, Philip Hamilton. First time, where do I go?”

“Ah, Ms. Dolley’s kindergarten class? It’s down that hall, do you have parent’s permission?” she replied pleasantly.

“Ah, yeah, right here,” he handed her the note and she checked it over meticulously, before nodding and giving it back: “Seems alright, have a good day.”

“You too,” Thomas nodded back awkwardly, before going down the indicated hall.

When he got to the classroom only Philip was left. He felt pretty bad that the whole thing had made him that late, but better late than never, he reasoned, hoping Philip would agree. He knocked on the door frame: “Hello, here Philip.”

Philip’s head shot up from his coloring book and he cheered: “Uncle Thomas!”

“Hey there, kiddo, sorry for the lateness,” Thomas greeted back, catching the running child in his arms and sweeping him around, before putting him down again, “Go grab your stuff, okay.”

The kid nodded and went about gathering his last stuff, while Thomas shook the hand of the teacher: “Hi, I’m Thomas, I have a note from Alex if you need it.”

“Ah, so you’re the famous Thomas, good to finally put a face to the name,” the teacher replied, “I’m Dolley, it’s nice to meet you.”

Thomas smiled: “Yeah, I somehow never got around to it, mostly picking him up from one of his Aunts or Uncles instead of school.”

“No need to explain yourself to me, I get it with a long job, you’re not the only parent,” she said pleasantly, “Can I see the note, just in case.”

“Of course,” Thomas handed her the note, deciding not to comment on the parent-part.

While she inspected it too, Philip finished packing and asked Thomas: “Why isn’t Papa picking me up? I thought he was going to?”

“Your Papa had a meeting, it was unplanned and last minute. He really wanted to come, Pip, but your Grandpa George needed him,” Thomas explained.

“Was he being way smarter than everyone else and did they need him to kick butt?” Philip asked.

Thomas laughed at the kid’s wording that was obviously Alex’s and agreed: “Yeah, they did, kiddo, they did.”

“Whoo, epic Papa, kicking everyone’s butt,” Philip cheered making ninja poses.

He ruffled the kid’s hair and nodded with a smile. Dolley gave him back the note and said: “Well, looks like everything’s in order, so you’re free to go,” she turned to Pip, “Have a good afternoon, Philip, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“‘Till tomorrow, Ms. Dolley,” Philip smiled a big toothy grin that was so much like Alex’s.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Thomas bid her farewell, before leading Philip outside, listening to his stories about coloring and their epic game of hide and seek during recess.

His own car had been outfitted with a booster seat as well after too many times of almost forgetting to transfer it. He buckled Philip in, then remembered Alex had his key of the house after leaving it at his office yesterday.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, before turning to Philip, “Hey, kiddo, how do you feel about seeing my house for a change?”

“That’ll be the coolest,” Philip clapped his hands.

“Good, good,” Thomas nodded, before texting Alex about the change of plans then he put his phone away to focus on driving.

As they drove Philip talked more about his day at school, before moving on to trees and finally windows. Thomas wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up at the topic, but it was kind of wonderful how much the kid could ramble on about anything if it caught his interest. Again Thomas saw Alex in him.

They rolled up into his driveway and Philip gaped: “You live there?”

It wasn’t that much bigger than Alex’s house, since it was near each other, but the woodwork was definitely more elaborate and Thomas had put a lot of thought in the front of his house. He confirmed: “Yeah, I live there, Pip. Wanna see the inside?”

Philip nodded quickly and Thomas unbuckled him and let him run to the front door, while he grabbed their stuff.

Thomas unlocked the door and told Philip: “Shoes off, please. You’re free to explore to your hearts desire, just come eat a snack and drink something in the kitchen first. It’s on the left there.”

Toeing his shoes off and handing Thomas his jacket, Philip was gone, peaking through every door he encountered on his way to the kitchen, while Thomas hung up their coats. He stopped and stared for a moment at the little coat hanging on his coat rack, shaking his head with adoring disbelief that this was his life now.

He got to the kitchen, mentally thinking of what he had to give to Philip, when he stopped in the doorway. Philip was looking at the picture of Martha he had in the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as he poured him a glass of orange juice.

When he handed it to him, Philipasked: “Who is that?”

Looking at the picture, words from the email from now seemingly so long ago came to him and he said: “That’s your Auntie Martha, she’s with the angels like your Daddy, but she preferred saying she was dancing among the stars. She’s looking over you from there, she’ll guide you home when you’re lost.”

Philip hummed and looked back to the picture studying it closely, before saying: “She’s pretty, like Auntie Maria and Auntie Peggy.”

“Yeah, she is,” Thomas agreed softly.

“Was she your Daddy?”

It took a moment for Thomas to decipher the question, but then he agreed: “She was, yeah. Me and her were married just like your Papa and Daddy were.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Philip drank his orange juice while Thomas sliced an apple. When the juice was gone, Philip decided: “I like her.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Thomas said, giving him the apple slices, “Eat these and then you’re all set.”

Philip happily munched on the slices, before thanking Thomas and rushing off to explore the house, leaving Thomas to think about today.

Ms. Dolley had assumed he was the other parent. It was probably because Philip had told them he was his Papa’s boyfriend, but he hadn’t even protested. He had a booster seat in his car and he was getting sentimental about a coat.

Somehow, Philip had wormed his way into Thomas’s heart and he couldn't imagine a life without the little kid and Alex.

Fuck.

He had accidentally adopted a kid – sort of – while he hadn’t even told the kid’s parent and his boyfriendthat he loved him. He did, God, of course he did, but he hadn’t said it yet.

At all.

And neither had Alex.

“Uncle Thomas!” Philip yelled and he immediately dropped any other thought as he rushed to the sound.

“What’s up kiddo?”

“You framed my picture,” Philip pointed out happily.

“I said I would, didn’t I. I made a pinky promise, I don’t make those lightly,” Thomas told him with a smile, looking at the portrait at end of the hallway. He had hung it up as promised right when he came back from that second date. With all his younger siblings and his two nieces he knew how important it was to make a big deal out of their art and he hadn’t even thought about it.

He looked at the portrait again and made up his mind, he was going to tell Alex he loved him. But he was doing it subtly, because fuck, that shit was too scary for him.

By the time Philip had seen all the rooms and asked a thousand questions about the books on the shelves and the souvenirs decorating the rooms, he was exhausted and had collapsed on the couch while Thomas made dinner.

The door opened and Alex’s voice rang through the hall: “I swear, the next time I see Lee and Adams, they won’t like me. Not that they do now, but oh my God.”

“Hello to you too, darling,” Thomas called back.

“Papa!” two tiny feet pattered down the hall.

Thomas could hear Alex laugh and Philip squeal, before he appeared in the doorway with his son on his hip. He kissed Thomas’s cheek and said: “Hi, Thomas, have a good afternoon with this little scoundrel here?”

“Of course, he was a proper gentlemen, right Pip?” he replied, stirring the food.

Philip nodded: “I explored the house, Uncle Thomas has my picture on the wall and I have another Auntie, did you know I have another Auntie?”

“Really?” Alex raised a brow at Thomas, but before he could say anything, Philip was already responding: “Yeah, she’s Auntie Martha and she’s very pretty. She has all the pretty dresses in the pictures and she smiles nice. Uncle Thomas said she’s dancing among the stars, isn’t that super cool?”

Realization dawned on Alex and his face softened as he send Thomas a small smile: “Yeah, Pip, that is super cool. Your Auntie Martha is watching out for you, just like Daddy.”

During dinner Philip recounted his day, while Thomas assured Alex that everything had gone well during the pick up, before Alex complained about his meeting, apologizing to Philip that he couldn't pick him up.

When dinner was done, Philip asked: “Are we going to have a sleepover here?”

Alex looked to Thomas, who shrugged and indicated that it was up to Alex and he didn’t mind either way. Alex asked in turn: “I don’t know, buddy. Would you like to?”

Philip’s eyes lit up and he said: “Oh, can I, Papa? Can I?”

“Sure, buddy,” Alex chuckled.

“Come on, kiddo,” Thomas got up, “If you help me carry these dishes you get to pick a guest room to sleep in, I’m sure you already found all ofthem.”

Thomas and Philip walked out of the room, leaving Alex to watch them with a content smile as he stayed seated for a while. Taking care of Philip had never been a burden and his friends helped him out so much, but it was nice to have Thomas around.

They allowed Philip to play a little more after dinner, before dressing him in one of Thomas’s sleep shirts and Alex made up a story about a knight, who befriended a dragon and rode between the clouds, before they fell tiredly on the couch.

After a moment of just them sitting there, Alex said: “Thank you for picking up Pip.”

“It really wasn’t a problem, ‘Lex,” Thomas assured him, “I like doing stuff for Pip, he’s a good kid and it wasn’t a problem, so don’t go worrying about it. I see your little eyes.”

“Hey, don’t insult my eyes,” Alex huffed, but Thomas saw relief in there.

“Not insulting, darlin’, I like your eyes too much for that,” he grinned.

“Sap,” Alex rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest when Thomas pulled him into a kiss, before draping himself over Thomas and staying there as they watched Designated Survivor, which they had multiple discussions about.

Alex thought it was good to be as honest as Tom Kirkman was being, while Thomas thought that it was stupid seeing the circumstances. And when Alex said it worked in his favor, Thomaswas quick to point out that it was a script and not real life, which ended up in a discussion of how it could have played out otherwise.

Over the course of the following days, Thomas made a plan to confess to Alex that he loved him. It involved bothering James, who didn’t appreciate it, and bothering Laf, who had to be sworn to secrecy using his Ma’s chocolate chip cookie recipe as a bribe.

He set it in motion the Friday a week later. Alex had left work early to pick up Philip from school, so when Thomas left he went past a flower shop and got red tulips.

First he had wanted to go with roses, but his whole plan hinged on subtlety, since he was going over to James’s house in the weekend, because they hadn’t hung out in forever, while Alex was taking Philip and visiting Herc after the man had gotten the weekend off after a huge fashion deal.

So, he would give the flowers and before Alex could decipher the meaning, he would be gone. Not having to see the reaction or deal with any of that in the moment, giving Alex space to not reject him immediately in his face.

It was perfect if he did say so himself.

With the tulips in hand he opened the door and called out a greeting. From the kitchen he heard Alex’s reply, but his first focus was on Philip, who wanted to show him a drawing he made at school that day.

He stopped however, when he saw the flowers in Thomas’s hand. Cocking his head to the side, he asked: “What are those?”

“They’re tulips, I saw them and got them for your Papa,” Thomas explained. Philip inspected them closely and Thomas couldn't help himself, when he asked: “Up to your standard, Mr. Inspector?”

Philip didn’t mind, with the family he had it was impossible not to be slightly sarcastic, so he just grinned: “On thin ice, but I give you a green light.”

“Why thank you.”

At that point Alex stuck his head through the door into the hallway and asked: “What’s holding you two up? The hallway that interesti-” he stopped when he saw the flowers and asked, “What are those for?”

“Just saw them and thought it would be nice,” Thomas shrugged, like he hadn’t planned this out in detail.

“How sweet,” Alex smiled when Thomas handed him the flowers.

Thomas took a moment to appreciate Alex in all his domestic beauty. He had an apron on and there were a few pans simmering on the stove while he cut the flowers and set them in a vase, nodding in approval to himself when he gave them a spot.

It was so crazy, yet so good to see the man he loved so relaxed and at home. The sight stirred something proud in Thomas’s chest, the small part he played in making Alex look like that as a badge of honor on his chest.

The feeling moved him to hug Alex from behind, lifting him slightly of the ground and making him gasp before he giggled.

He blew a raspberry on his cheek then set him down, taking full responsibility for the tickles he got in retaliation.

This was good, he felt good and he only hoped he hadn’t entirely fucked it up by telling Alex how he felt.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

I have not read the poetry itself, but the title was just too fitting not to include it in this fic. I did order it, so maybe by the time I’m posting it I have, but at the time of writing: no.

Also I am not writing smut, just not doing that. If you wanna think they have sex you can, but honestly I’m not touching that with a ten feet pole. No shame to people who do, just not for me <3

(hi im a greyaroace nonbinary lesbian if you think I know how to write that, then you would be incorrect)

#RR Writing #tw: loss mention #Hamilton #Hamilton AU #Alexander Hamilton #Thomas Jefferson #Philip Hamilton #Angelica Schuyler #Jamilton #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 8 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU

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brandstifter-sys · 4 years

Text

He Lives In You

Word Count: 1494 (Ao3)

Characters: Roman, Remus, King Creativity

Rating: G

Warnings: violence mention, rough housing, swearing, revenge

Heavily inspired by the song from the Lion King 2

Summary: After DWIT, Roman doesn’t feel all that great, so he decides that he’s gonna go and get a little revenge for the lump on his head, if not maybe make himself the only creativity (revenge is more appealing) Until he finds Remus and has a heart to heart with him about their origins. (A sequel to/continuation of “Aries” which you might want to read before you click the read more...

It was dusk. The kingdom felt dull. Roman stared at the overcast sky, painted bright with oranges and pinks, a far cry from the mood he was in. As he leaned on the white balcony, Roman couldn't help but think of the abrupt reveal that happened. His twin, his brother, the other half—Thomas knew that he was not the only creativity. Thomas knew there was someone before them, a king who was gone forever.

Roman often felt like a shard of ceramic from a shattered bowl. He couldn't encompass all that he needed to be Creativity. Sure he could come up with ideas—stories, plots, coherent thought—but that took time, and he was sure that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't come up with something practical on the fly. That's where Remus came in. If there were no more Remus, he would be all encompassing.

Roman shook his head and ran a hand through his hair as the wind tickled his cheek. He didn't want to be rid of Remus. He wanted to feel like he could live up to Thomas' expectations, to his predecessor. He felt so small and weak. Maybe it was he who should be gone, and Remus take over as the stronger twin.

No! Roman banished his doubts long enough to hop over the edge of the balcony and climb to the ground via a red banner with a golden lion. He landed silently on the pavement and set off. He was not as weak as he thought and Remus would know exactly why he was not going to get away with bludgeoning a prince and taking over! He was going to pay for that transgression!

He trudged through the forest with no light to guide him. He didn't need it in his own kingdom. He needed to have the element of surprise, make use of his ability to conjure what he needed. He was not going to be bested by the duke, he was not going to let his insecurities destroy him.

He was not prepared to emerge in a strange meadow lit by a full moon and fireflies. The flowers were closed for the evening amid the rolling grass, and the bats overhead were squeaking softly, more so than his birds. But what struck him the most was Remus, sitting at the edge of a pond, calmly staring at the sky.

"No sword?" he greeted as Roman approached. He glanced at his twin when he got no response.

"Something bugging you Princey?"

"Why are you on my side?" Roman asked without thinking, too stunned to comprehend the situation.

"I'm not. This is my side. This was his special place. I don't have the power to change it," Remus shrugged, "What do I owe the crowned prince for gracing me with an appearance?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you should already know why I'm here!"

"Is this because I knocked you out and raised hell?" Remus pressed, bouncing with glee.

"And tried to kill me!" Roman snarled, clenching his fists.

"Oh no, that's something I never plan on actually doing. I don't want to have to do your job, mine is enough! I just needed you out of the way for a while and I decided to have fun doing it!" Remus said with a giggle at the end and looked up at the sky again.

"You don't?" Roman asked, completely bewildered. Remus sighed and shook his head. He was far too calm and collected, a far cry from the usual. It was as if he could be as much a prince as Roman. Revenge wasn't quite as appealing anymore, still appealing but not in that moment.

"There's a reason why we split beyond just what Thomas decided was good and bad. Plant your ass and let me ramble." Remus hummed. Roman sat down and crossed his legs. He was unused to this calm Remus and should have had his guard up, but there was something in his voice that made him feel like it was safe.

"A king with a kingdom too large to manage, too vast with too many different problems has a heavy burden that weighs on him through his crown. Managing alone drives anyone insane. Do you have any idea how vast the imagination is?"

"It is big enough to split into two kingdoms."

"Three if you count the small part only Virgil can manipulate. But it's huge. That's what I'm saying. It's too much for one person to manage on top of being available for Thomas and the others."

"What?" Roman questioned, not quite following.

"You don't remember anything from Marcus' life, do you, Aries? Or how it happened."

"Aries?" Now Roman was really confused.

"We shattered a mirror by pulling out our reflection and then, BAM, the split. I have the memories of King Marcus, you have the grace and charm he put forward. Aries is the name he gave his reflection. Since I remember, you're Aries."

"You lost me."

"Patton didn't cause the split, Marcus did, and maybe too soon. Because he was stressed and tired and needed a break that he just couldn't catch. He was terrified that he would never have time for himself, terrified of becoming a plaything for the others, terrified he would always be needed but not wanted."

"He split into us because he couldn't handle it. He became we. But then why are we incomplete? I know you feel like you aren't enough—"

"No, that's just you!" Remus cut him off, "I'm enough, I came to terms with my role and being unwanted. I just want Tombo to see me and maybe accept me as I am, whether he likes it or not. You feel like you aren't enough. Less than little Marky and unsure if you have what it takes to live up to him?" He fluttered his lashes at his twin with a wry smile.

"It's so creepy when you read me like that!" Roman huffed and averted his gaze.

"You're just like him. Doubtful but powerful, whimsical with a temper, but you don't remember him and you can't see it."

"And you expect to get me to see it?"

"Have a little faith, alright. Look into the water and tell me what you see." Remus snorted. Roman leaned forward hesitantly and peered into the moonlit pond. It was just his face staring back at him. The same brown, tired eyes, the same imperfect, perfectly coiffed hair, the same hairless face.

"That's just me."

"Hey, listen, look closer into the water, into the truth," Remus said and peered down next to him, "He lives in you, he lives in me." Roman stared hard, amazed at the sudden change when Remus tossed a pebble in the water and laid on his back.

Instead of his face, Roman saw someone familiar and yet a total stranger. Bright hazel eyes stared back at him. He had the same squared posture as Roman normally would, proud and confident. He had stubble and an impish air about him, like Remus, but that man was neither of them.

"In your reflection, he lives in you." Remus said, snapping Roman from his trance.

"That was—"

"'King Marcus, if he grew up?' Yeah. He's hot. But he's nicey dicey into two halves! You have enough of him in you to move mountains or rearrange the stars to guide the ship lost at sea, a lighthouse in the densest fog. I am the whirring tempest, thunder and lightning striking the ocean, the albatross flying until I'm shot down to wear around your neck."

"Albatrosses are good luck if they follow your ship," Roman sneered.

"I am good luck! Who do you think weasels us out of serious shit? Lying and fight-or-flight only go so far! I'm his Ingenuity, you're his Inspiration. Both Creativity, both himbolicious, but I'm the hot one!"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately, Buffalo Bill?" Roman scoffed playfully, already plotting to make Remus pay, but in a different way. Remus sat up abruptly and peered into the pond, leaning over it. He winked and blew a kiss at his reflection just to be a little shit.

Splash!

"That's for clubbing me over the head, Dukebag!" Roman laughed after shoving Remus in the water. It wasn't deep or cold, but it was unexpected.

Remus flailed until he was seated, waist deep with wet hair in his eyes. He spit out a goldfish and some water and smirked. Roman wasn't fast enough.

"This is war!" he cheered and dragged Roman in with him, covering the prince in mud. The splash fight that ensued might have been childish, but it was more fun than Roman had in a while. More importantly, he could understand that maybe, just maybe, Remus wasn’t supposed to be his mirror, the bad twin. Maybe he was simply Remus, a different branch of creativity, and his brother. Who was so getting a face full of pond scum!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #roman sanders #remus sanders #king creativity #creativitwins #do not tag as r//mr//m #sandyscribed #tw violence mention

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merryfortune · 4 years

Text

July Nights

Fandom: Animal Crossing New Horizons

Ship: Isabelle/f!Island Representative

Word Count: 3,488

Tags: Canon Compliant, Fluff, South Hemisphere Setting

The snow fell peacefully all afternoon and looked gorgeous against the encroaching night. Isabelle watched it from her window with a mug of mocha-caramel coffee to warm her paws. She listened to the click-clack of Tom’s claws on his laptop’s keys as she enjoyed her umpteenth break today.

The island was so wonderful, every day an idyllic dream, she thought. It had been ages since she had last been asked to scold someone for inappropriate clothes or vulgar language. Her nose wrinkled with a laugh as she mused on that as she took yet another sweet, sweet sip of her coffee and savoured the dulcet taste of it.

Isabelle sighed as she let the moment linger before the doors to the Resident Services’s building flung open. She could have jumped out of her skin but thankfully, she hadn’t. Turning herself around to greet the visitor, she noticed that Tom most certainly had. His tail was straight as an arrow but very, very fluffy with his spook as the Island Representative gallivanted inside.

Cold winds blew right up until those thick, oaken doors shut once more. Even then, Isabelle had to shiver thanks to that icy blast that the Rep had let in as she marched up to oh! To her counter!

Isabelle couldn’t believe it, she set down her mug of coffee on her desk and she hurried to her side of the long, marble counter which split the Services building in half longways. She smoothed down her dark green skirt and attempted to dazzle the Rep with another one of those million bell smiles of hers - it worked every time.

The Rep greeted her with a crinkly eyed smile of her own; a hand lifted in greeting as well and it was time to let their dinky little meeting begin. It was always so nice to have something to do, Isabelle thought.

“So, what did you need today, ma’am?” Isabelle asked.

“An island evaluation, please.” the Rep chirruped.

Of course. It was rarely anything else these days. The flag and island tune were all set and all the islanders were getting along for the time being. The only thing there was left to do on the Island Representative’s to-do list was to build up their reputation so that they could get the one and only K.K. Slider to come perform. Oh, that would be so splendid if they could get that to happen.

“Well,” Isabelle began, her voice perky as she smiled, shuffling papers, “the recent feedback has been stellar but no dice. We come up during many a water cooler chats and we’re making top ten listicles as well but… but we’re still only a four star island, I’m afraid.”

“Aw, darn... “ the Rep mumbled; she snapped her fingers, too and Isabelle could just see all her hopes dashing. “I’ve been working really hard on the latest feature of our island, too.” And then just like that, Isabelle could see all her hopes return and surged. Perhaps even more powerfully at that given how her eyes bugged with amazement. “Actually, I know,” she said, “you should come and have a look. It’s finished, I promise. Not like, um, not like with the playground, I swear.”

Isabelle laughed. Yes, she remembered the playground debacle, ha-ha. The Rep had been so pleased to make all those building blocks and rocking horses and to steamroll that one, perfect piece of the island… only to decide that she wasn’t satisfied with it and put the project on a not quite hiatus. She swears she’ll get back to it… she just needs to do some… remodelling… which she can’t do until she unlocks terraforming… which she can’t do unless K.K Slider comes… which doesn’t matter anyway because her head’s reeling at a million miles an hour with ideas to make their island the bestest that there ever was and it was time to start yet another project scene.

That’s what Isabelle not so secretly nor not so quietly admired about her. She had such vivacious tenacity which lit up her face with brilliance and such pep in her steps. She never got discouraged and she had high standards for herself and for this Island. She truly was the one meant to be their dear, little island’s Representative.

But back to the matter at hand. Isabelle sighed and she bore a sympathetic look into those big, black eyes of her’s.

“I’m sorry, Rep, but - but I shouldn’t. I’ve got work to do, you know? Um, like, like doing some filing. I have to scan some things and send them to places and-” Isabelle rambled.

From across the room, Tom put his foot down. He pinched the bridge of his snout with unamused contempt. “Isabelle,” he said firmly, “just take the rest of the night off. If you have unfinished business, I’ll get to it if it’s that urgent but otherwise, come back to it in the morning, with fresh eyes. Some fun would do you some good, you know. You’re still young, too young to be an old fuddy-duddy like me.”

“Tom!” Isabelle exclaimed whilst the Island Rep laughed in her cushiony chair across from her.

“So, what do you say? I think you deserve to see the newest sights that way you can write a listicle or whatever when you get back and that might help propel us to that five star rating, yeah?” the Rep teased her.

“Oh, oh, okay, it’ll be a business trip.” Isabelle said, tail wagging. “That sounds quite acceptable.”

Tom just groaned hearing his golden protege hear that but it got her out from behind her counter which was the main thing.

Isabelle trotted out from behind the counter; lifting it up at the middle seam and then put it back perfectly in place. She beamed at the Island Rep who welcomed her with an outreached hand.

“C’mon, let’s go, I know it’s cold outside but trust me, what I have in store for you will warm you up to the core.” the Island Rep assured her as she began to lead her to the door.

Isabelle shivered with excitement, more forcing herself to shiver rather than having done it naturally, as the door was closed. “Ooh, sounds good.” she agreed.

Tom rolled his eyes from where he worked. Kids, he thought. Although, as he began to pen some numbers down on a notepad to double check his maths, he did briefly wonder if his kids - Timmy and Tommy - would ever be like this. He hoped not. He wanted them to stay small and relatively less annoying like this forever.

The door opened and everyone inside shivered although, surprisingly, the snow had stopped. But it certainly did look pretty outside. The Island Rep glanced at Isabelle and smiled big. Isabelle laughed and the two rocketed off outside. The Island Rep dragged Isabelle through the snow and it was such crisp joy.

Snow scrunched and crunched underfoot. It was such fun to run through the flurry as the Rep led Isabelle to the east, first. They rocketed across a wooden bridge and through snow dusted flowers and past a thick, verdant forest all blanketed in the snowy, wintery goodness. The snow on the ground twinkled serenely, even as they ripped through it. Occasionally, they would pass by one of their neighbours who would stop and stare, confused, to see that Isabelle was the one partaking in such hooligan behaviour. The fact that it was the Island Rep leading and initiating such tomfoolery was much less surprising as it was more in line with her behaviour and reputation but not sweet, introverted Isabelle who so rarely stepped a toe outside the Services building.

They hooked a left up in the middle of this third of the island and began to run out of puff. It was kind of nice, though. As they slowed down and let go of each other, they could see their breath in front of them. A huff and a puff of white clouds which tickled their noses as they started to ascend a stone staircase which was at the bottom of the first of the two upper island crests in this region of the island.

Isabelle remembered the ceremony which they had hosted for it the other day. She had wondered why the Rep had decided on that particular location but that idle curiosity had barely consumed her like it was now. Her heart raced as she climbed to the top of the stairs, trying to glance around in the dark where she had stood for the ceremony. The photographs taken then had dazzled her, making her see spots where there weren’t any. The ceremony had been so much fun, actually. It was always fun to pop the poppers but the clean up was always something of a drag. Just because the used streamers were biodegradable

“We’re almost there.” the Island Rep told Isabelle when they had made it to the top.

From where they stood, they were greeted by a sea of flowers all dancing in the moonlight. Petals, red and yellow and white and even some orange and pink, twitched out of synchronicity with one another. There had been some effort to dig the ones out which would get in the way of where people would walk but some had already grown back through.

The Island Rep noticed and giggled sheepishly but there was no time to get her shovel out and do some more cleaning up. Isabelle didn’t mind.

“So where is it? The newest feature of our island that you wanted to show me?” she asked.

She looked around; towards the inlet which had a waterfall, just past that grove of trees and then the other way, there it was a clear view to the sea. Isabelle couldn’t see a manmade object in sight but that wasn’t a bad thing. The natural look was so, so beautiful as well.

The Island Rep’s already sheepish demeanour turned yet even more so. She was a little embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her head.

“We still have a little more to go.” the Rep said. “We’re gonna need to climb a ladder. Are you alright using mine?”

“Oh!” Isabelle exclaimed with a blink. “That’s a little… dangerous. No, adventurous. It’s adventurous. I’d be happy to… so long as you help.”

She asked so cutely, how could the Island Rep say no?

“It’ll be easy as pie.” the Rep replied after a slightly longer than intended pause. And then she had a sudden epiphany, eyes going up wide. “You can go first but promise not to look, I want to be there when you see it.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that.” Isabelle replied with laughter in her voice.

Together, the Island Rep and Isabelle moseyed up to the next set of cliffs. It was daunting but with more than enough ease, the Island Rep whipped out her ladder and set to work with helping Isabelle up.

It was probably only a three-four foot incline upwards but Isabelle was shaken nonetheless. At the bottom of the ladder, the Island Rep held it steady whilst Isabelle so carefully climbed up and made it to the top of the highest area of the island. Once Isabelle gave her the a-okay, the Rep clambered up as fast as she could.

At the final rung of the ladder, Isabelle offered the Rep her paw and the Rep took it. With a great heft, Isabelle helped the Island Rep to her feet. She was then satisfied and returned the ladder to her inventory. All whilst Isabelle kept her promise. She didn’t sneak a single look at what was behind her whilst the Rep was preoccupied with her pockets.

“Okay, I’m ready.” the Rep said.

“Oooh, I’m so excited.” Isabelle could have danced on the spot with her overexcitement.

“You can look now then.” the Rep said.

Isabelle turned around and she gasped. A hot springs had been installed by the riverbed.

“Do you like it?” the Rep asked.

Isabelle was too stunned to speak as she let her eyes savour what had been prepared before her. Her tail lifted, went stock still, before wagging immensely as she glanced around but her eyes kept coming back to the formation of rocks in the very centre of this plane which had been mostly cleared of trees. Reams of steam curled up off the still, warm water of the hot spring which had been installed. A little clay froggy sat at the back of the rocks and there was a sign customised with a bowl of fruit. Bamboo grew towards the far sides of the cliff and Isabelle sighed. Two types of fruit trees had been planted nearby and she could smell their deliciously sweet scents. There was a hat stand to look after discarded clothes nearby and an array of zen pillows to sit on: all coloured greens and golds, standing out against the white of the fallen snow.

“Oh, I love it, Rep,” Isabelle swooned, “this is easily your best work yet.”

“D’aw, thanks.” the Rep replied, rubbing beneath her nose to further hide the blush on her cheeks in the dark.

“It’s a shame, it’s far too cold to soak, I think.” Isabelle replied. “We should wait for spring…”

“That’s quitter talk, Isabelle.” the Rep said and she smacked Isabelle good-naturedly between her shoulders.

“I dunno…” Isabelle quibbled.

“Please, I brought us some wrap-around towels and spare clothes. If we’re quick, we won’t be cold.” the Rep insisted pleadingly.

Isabelle looked towards her. Those cute little eyes of the Rep’s made it so difficult to say no to so she sighed. She laughed awkwardly and rubbed her arms.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s do it.”

“Yes, I knew you’d come around.” the Rep exclaimed.

The Island Representative fussed about with her inventory again. She got changed into a wraparound towel and then passed a second one onto Isabelle. She trembled on the spot as she held onto the item in question. It was so sweet of the Island Rep to have gotten one in one of her favourite colours; Isabelle had always felt that earthy tones like brown looked best on her. Excited, Isabelle got changed and she almost couldn’t bear it.

It was far too cold to be walking around in a bath towel, Isabelle could have squealed. She had a nice thick coat of winter fur on but that poor human of hers. She didn’t know how the Island Rep did it. Running around in all sorts of things; swimming in the sea, looking for sea critters. Argh, the thought alone terrified Isabelle and froze her to the core.

Absorbed by all her playful misery, the Island Rep took the initiative once again. She took Isabelle by the paw and tugged her towards the hot springs. They leapt into it as though they were leaping into the sea. Hot water went everywhere and they sank the depths, rising up, heads bobbing, and laughing so hard with the mess they had made.

“Oh, Rep, you are such a card.” Isabelle exclaimed in something of a whiny voice.

The Island Representative laughed. Heck yeah she was.

As the Island Rep’s giggles faded out, Isabelle began to smile. She sighed and they both enjoyed a moment of eventual quiet. It was nice.

Isabelle tilted her head up and she gasped. The skies were so beautiful tonight. She glanced downwards and she noticed all the night sky’s reflection in the water in between the ripples and the curls of steam. Isabelle could not be more enchanted as she felt her heart pound just that little bit more quickly in her fluffy chest.

She turned her head to the Island Rep, she looked so darling with water in her hair and stars in her eyes. She, too, equally as mesmerised with the fruit of her labour. Gosh, she couldn’t have picked a better spot for such a lovely and serene scene as this, Isabelle wanted to praise her.

“Thank you for this.” Isabelle found herself saying, not thinking.

The Island Representative seemed to have not been expecting that. She seemed a little spooked by what Isabelle had suddenly said but it turned to humility.

“I’m glad you like it.” she replied.

Isabelle beamed. Her joy was delightful on her furry muzzle and the Island Rep relished the expression. The crinkles on the side of her eye, particularly note worthy despite being so small and in the dark as well.

The water had long since stilled despite their entry into it and Isabelle disrupted it, unthinking. She moved in closer to the Island Rep. Her paw fumbling over the Rep’s hand and she stroked at it, awkwardly. The Island Rep didn’t mind, not even when Isabelle’s claws, non-retractable as she was a canine, lightly grazed over her skin.

“You do a lot for us.” Isabelle added, not quite yet done with praising the Island Rep. “For the Island, not just me.”

“I gotta.” the Rep said. “I love you guys.” She felt a bulge form in her throat and it made her hesitate; to double guess herself and the like but ever the ragamuffin, the only way she knew to handle it was by going through, guns blazing and the like. “I love you too, Isabelle. A lot, even.” Her heart pounded and she still found words to blurt out. “I’m glad we could have tonight together. To do something special.”

The Island Rep still felt as though she had more to say but instead, she found herself being sucked into the awespiring blackholes of Isabelle’s eyes. They kept widening and widening and were still somehow getting wider with her wonder at the Island Represenative’s confession. The shock was sweet and palpable.

“....Really?” Isabelle whispered. “You… love me?”

“Mmhm, most of all.” the Island Rep promised and she took Isabelle’s paws - both of them. She held them tightly. The Island Rep could feel the squishy bits of Isabelle’s paws on her palms; they felt like plush leather, it was sensory heaven to her, even submerged in the water.

“Oh, that’s lovely, thank you, I - I love you too.” Isabelle said.

Isabelle reefed her paws out from the Rep’s hands and flung them towards her face in an exuberant hug. The embrace which ensued with messy and had them splashing about in the hot springs but it was so, so much fun. And it ended with them settling down, with haphazard breaths and they stared into each other’s eyes.

“May I?” Isabelle asked. Her words were slow and tender, mixing up in the steam still roiling off the meniscus of the hot springs.

“Of course.” the Island Representative replied; Isabelle didn’t even have to ask but it was sweet that she had.

Isabelle pawed at the Rep’s face as she angled her own so as to get everything in the direction it ought to be going. So that noses wouldn’t bump into each other; so that teeth wouldn’t clink against teeth but all that happened anyway. It simply couldn’t be helped but at least it was funny. When they finally started to kiss each other - contact, warm, lip to lip and mouth to mouth - they were both laughing.

Isabelle’s kiss was everything that the Island Representative thought it would be. A little strange thanks to the physiological differences but it worked out nicely regardless. Isabelle’s kiss was a smooth caress, pressing forward but only with permission, with deft flicks of her wagging tongue whilst the Island Rep was a bit less controlled than that. Despite being human, she tried to be big and grand and long. She was free flying passion, poking forward with curiosity and excitement.

They were both loath to end it but they had to breathe on their own eventually. When it ended, there were stars in both their eyes and a fantastic happiness in both their hearts.

“I promise to take you on more breaks like this one soon.” the Island Rep said and she finally felt that she may have everything she had ever wanted off her chest now.

Isabelle giggled, demure. “I shall look forward to it.” She was evasive as she had her own designs - soon to be quite literally - now in her own mind. What if… for August… she could finally have plenty more escapes from behind the desks to light up the night with the Island Representative. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

For now, they just revelled in the lovestruck looks that they couldn’t tear away from each other. Soaking in the cool, winter air of July nights and the warm water of the hot springs. Not even minding that, eventually, they would have to get out and what a hop, skip, and a jump of trouble that would be but for now, they would enjoy what they had a little bit longer.

#writing tag #animal crossing new horizons #animal crossing #isabelle animal crossing #isabelle x island representative #isabelle x female island representative #femslash #july nights #i had this idea before the august update so i wanted to write it

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consultingsister-aa · 5 years

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the pre-love self love ramble

seven whole years of cee, or as i like to call it, about six and a half years too long of cee OR as other like to call it we get it, you’ve been around forever, it’s not impressive, it’s just sad. OH ALSO! my dad’s birthday AND seventeen years since i was diagnosed with type one diabetes. cool. sort of crazy since all my other muses usually fail to last two weeks, let alone years. i won't go on about it but i will just say i know how lucky i am to have had the experience that i have had on this website; i have seen other writers, very talented and lovely, been driven away by drama and hate and it sucks. so just here is my reminder that when you’re feeling low about being here, take a step back. remember why you started; for love of a character, oc or canon, because you love to write and create, because you have good friends around you, whatever the reason and try and forget about follower counts or people being just a bit shit. just because someone else is a talented writer too, doesn’t mean you’re not. know your worth, be proud of what you have created and be kind and complimentary to people you find inspiring! being kind to other is a pretty wonderful natural endorphin booster. anyway! thanks for coming to my self indulgent ted talk.

THE COOLEST KIDS

so these are the dudes are people i dont talk to a shit ton (lucky you) or even at all but i really just think you’re gr8. i think you’re characterization is great, your headcanons, your ships, you’re writing and i know being a name in a list of names isn’t a great way to get that across but i think you’re really super? when i see these people on my dash and i see the work and love they put into their blogs i’m so inspired to work harder, to writer better, to strive and improve so i can be half as brilliant as you. and i know i will have missed people bc this is a bad way to do this but tbh even you’re not here and i follow you, that’s how i feel (you know, otherwise i’d unfollow im not a loyal hoe). so thank you for improving my rp experience.

@anabioun / @aspernamentum / @asilverjackal / @bestvictim / @crimesvndicate / @decrstalker / @devilpraised / @detectivescavo / @fangsforhire / @gunmetclgrey / @helenaiism / @heprevailed / @hethefted / @iilvecchio / @invcstigation / @jessicastrung / @knightfailed / @kradljivac / @pinstrpe / @presidentviktorpetrov / @plcunton / @patronodellearti / @quietresistance / @queenviictoria / @rwtsn / @strawpolls / @strangerinourmidst / @shkess / @sicilianrcse / @thaegeiro / @theholisticdetective / @winebleeds / @wedtocrime / @watsonofagun / @vicemirrored / @venosum / @veresum

AND THEN THERE’S THESE MOTHERFUCKS

@strcngemercy / @mcneyhoney: you know you’re the reason i believe in soulmates and fate and half of that crap because the chances of us meeting and connecting like we did are just so fucking slim? i know half our discord chats are now just verbally making out with each other (honestly when did you become such a sap) but i miss you being on everyday and chatting everyday and i cannot WAIT until im in your arms and proving my boyfriend right thinking that the only reason i wanted to come to dublin was to see and make out with you. but the fact is, cecelia would not have made it past 2013 without you, and nox and stef and being best friends and lesbians together.

@dilkos / @donsjuans / @ingeanue: im not even totally sure how to put into words how much you mean to me. i really felt like i have lost my right hand for a while when you were away. cee lost her soulmate and her best friend, and i sort of feel like i did too. i’ve never clicked with someone quite as quickly as i clicked with you, and how we’re so on the same page when it comes to writing our characters. sometimes you say how celia will feel about something and im like... yes.... how did i not know this. you know me and cee better than we know ourselves. ily. also petition to bring back mork 2k19.

@irritablefacade: everytime you reply to our threads i have to be like ‘okay but wait ten minutes do you don’t look too eager’ but idc anymore. brian and cee make me VERY happy and i am so glad that you ship them too because from the moment i saw your blog (and then watched zulu) all i wanted was for them to fall in love and probably fuck each other over bc healthy is boring.

@rcsethcrn: thank you for helping celia’s realise that having female friends who you support and want to achieve might not? actually? be the worst? thing in the world. thank you for making me fall in love with asoiaf and fall even more deeply in love with margaery as a character. you have developed her beyond her role in the book and i find it so refreshing and wonderful. you’re so incredibly kind and talented and cee and i would both be lost with you and marg on our dash board.

@mcstdangerous / @xqueenofscots / @vespxr: my main advisory for oldest blog about ! i hope that i have made it clear by now that i am SUPER thankful for the day you told me about tumblr roleplay, and then let me join that little group of sherlock rp’ers you had. you are such a talented writer, for whatever muse you put your mind to, and an incredible person. we need more plots and threads for chey being celia’s right hand woman pls and thnk

@hellsbraveknight: OKAY so i know you’re not about much anymore so i already sent you your love letter over facebook but i feel like when you do eventually have two seconds for yourself and come online and i didn’t include you i’ll be in trouble. i love you, you know all this, you’re my best friend, very soon we have to meet and i want to kiss you and the boys all over. i am so proud of the person you have become. jam and kat 5ever.

#( i. ooc )#u know im a hoe for anniversaries #its important to celebrate your achievements and be proud okay kids it's selflove #long post --#also shout out to the ogs who know who the woman on the right is

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cefstickles · 6 years

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Indecisive Interactions

Hello Everyone! First Royality tickle fic! I kind of rushed it slightly because it was for my friend,Turtler’s birthday and it was over a week and a half late, but other than that I think it's ok. The first part was so much fun to write! I forgot how cute Royality is, so I hope you all enjoy this mess that is the sunshine ship! Love you all! Enjoy!

Indecisive Interactions

(Ships): Royality

Words ~ 2,596 ~

Warnings: Tickling

It started with an idea. An idea that both sides had agreed upon, but once the execution of that idea came to pass, neither of them had any clue what to do. So two parties sat there, on opposite couches, trying to discuss what they should do together that would constitute as quality time. Well, more like the fanciful side was rambling idea after idea while Patton agreed wholeheartedly to each and every one. This caused the prince to become slightly self-conscious of Patton's true feelings about any of his ideas.

"Oh! How about a board game?" Patton clasped his hands for maybe the seventeenth time.

"Oh I love board games!" Roman sunk a little.

"Card games...?"

"I love those too!" It was too much for the prince to process. He groaned outwardly and rubbed his temples, trying to get a hold of his temper.

"For Athena's sakes, Patton! Stop giving me the same answer for every idea I have! Just pick one over the other! Ugh. Even you can't love everything with the same intensity! Please, just tell me which one you'd like to do!" Patton frowned a little and thought with a face that could mirror Logan's eyebrow raise of utter confusion. After a minute, the moral side looked just as defeated as the prince himself.

"I don't know Princey! I can't pick! All those ideas you gave are amazing! And as much as I'd like to choose between them...I just...can't! I just want to do what you want to do!" Roman fell back on the couch in dramatic fashion.

"Not again, Patton! We are going in a circle here! What I want to do is what you want to do, yet we both want to do what the other side wants and no decisions are being made on which activity we will do!" Patton hung his head a little and fiddled with his thumbs. He watched as Roman pulled at his hair with frustration.

"I'm sorry Roman! I don't know what you really want to do! But, I promise it's not because I don't want to spend time with you! I do! It's just we both are too nice. Eheh. This 'kind' of argument is just a round Robin for us!" Roman's response to Patton was a pillow in the face, sending the moral aspect in almost the exact position Roman was on the couch in front of him.

"Stop it! I already told you I want to do what you want to do, and I gave you a whole list of options. Just freaking TELL ME!" The moral aspect gave a half-hearted chuckle at the pillow Roman threw at him, and lamely tossed it back allowing the prince to catch it with ease. Roman twirled the pillow in his hands, trying to think up a solution to their predicament. With Virgil and Logan gone, this wasn't an easy task, but it only took a moment for a possible idea to come to him.

"Okay. Patton." Roman clasped his hands together and drew a breath, touching his middle fingers to his nose as he regained his composure. "I have a proposition for you." He pointed with his folded hands towards the moral side. Patton perked up and nodded vigorously, signifying he was intently listening to what he had to say.

"If...you tell me what you'd like to do in these next couple hours, I will personally see to it that your next request is fulfilled! Regardless of what I, Logan, or Virgil think!" Roman stood up on the couch to confirm his point, watching proudly as Patton followed suit and started clapped wildly.

"Wait really?!" Patton's eyes were the widest they had been that day, and finally the prince felt like they were getting somewhere.

"Yes really! But, in order to do that, you need to choose." Roman smirked and collapsed back on the couch, feeling that his side of the bargain had been portrayed perfectly. Patton drew in a deep breath and did the same.

"Okay. I can do this..." He closed his eyes and tapped at his forehead. "Think, think think, think, think."

Roman manifested a glass of water in his hand and drank daintily. "A winnie the pooh reference! Classic." The moral aspect smiled warmly and went right back to thinking. The prince scrutinized his fellow side's face as he did this, when he noticed a peculiar blush grow on Patton's face as he seemed to accumulate an idea.

"How about...umm...oh wait nevermind..." Roman raised an eyebrow at Patton's pinked expression and set his glass of water down.

"Have you thought of something, Patton dearest?" It seemed Patton's blush only grew at the nickname and Roman's interests were now clearly piqued about what he had in mind.

"Uhh...yeah! But...it might not be something you wanna do so let's just move on! Eheheheh! How about that board game idea you had? We could play Monopoly-" Roman quickly put a finger against Patton's lips to shush him.

"At this point, Patton, this is the most interest you've shown at anything today! So do tell me what this original idea you had of yours was?" Patton tried to swallow his blush and was only mildly successful as the prince transfered over to his couch and sat down next to him. Patton laughed nervously and waved his hand around like it was nothing.

"Awh, don't worry about it. I'll just ask for it for my one request you said you'd fulfill! Eheheh!" Roman knew that Patton laugh all to well and it so happened to be the same laugh Patton would use when he was trying to conceal his feelings. Roman was having none of that.

. "Well there's no harm in telling me now is there?" Roman gave Patton a playful grin and watched as the blush came back to spread across his face. Oh this was going to be fun.

"Well...I...uhm-" Patton fiddled with his thumbs faster.

"It's nothing explicit is it, padre?" Roman just had to jest watching as Patton jumped back in hurried fashion and rush to his own defense.

"What?! Nononononono! Nothing like that! It might be slightly intimate-"

"Intimate you say?" Roman grabbed his water and downed it quickly, moving his face closer to Patton's. "I can do intimate." Patton snorted at the Prince's face and playfully pushed it away.

"Stop it. No no nothing like that! You should know by now I'm all about the heart and not about the bod!" Roman gave him a disbelieving smirk.

"Really now? Because I'm positive I'm not the only one who bears a fancy towards six packs." Patton's blush got a bit redder as it began to rush to the tips of his ears. Roman threw his head in laughter, quite glad of his victory.

"R-roman!!" The prince clapped a hand on his back, sending Patton forward a bit.

"I knew it! So how intimate would you like it? I can take off my shirt." Patton was sure his hips didn't need to move that much if he was just taking off his shirt, nevertheless his blush finally spread down to his neck.

"GAH! No! Keep your shirt on Roman!" Patton reached to the hem of Roman's shirt that was already exposing his belly button and attempted to pull it back down. "Modesty!"

"What modesty Patton? There's no one here but us." Patton yanked it down out of Roman's hands.

"Noo!! Stop!"

"Okay fine fine! How intimate are we talking then?" Roman clasped hands with Patton, pulling him and himself off the couch and to their feet.

"I just wanna cuddle!" Patton shouted. A little more volume than what was necessary since Roman was right in front of him, but the prince understood because of how insecure the moral aspect must have felt saying that. "I've cuddled with Logan and Virgil, but it's been forever since we've cuddled! And I feel like we don't have much interaction so I'm sorry if that's weird to ask, but your famILY too. Don't forget that." Roman gave a warm half smile and wiggled from side to side.

"Aw shucks..." Patton smiled.

"Also, this whole bonding thing is because we both agreed that the Sander's Sides videos have been growing us two apart more than bringing us together and we wanted to change that. That was your idea...wasn't it Roman?" The prince smiled and brought Patton in for a hug.

"Yes. I suppose it was. Well to heck with it. Why don't we cuddle a bit?" Roman kicked off his boots and laid on the couch behind them, motioning for Patton to do the same.

"Just like that? Don't you want like a movie on or something-BLANKET!?" The fanciful side chuckled at Patton's reaction when he summoned a large fuzzy blanket that depicted cats and dogs playing together. He had to hold his squeal in as Patton practically jumped on him and burrowed underneath the blanket.

"Judging by that reaction, I don't think a movie will be necessary." As Patton wiggled under the blanket and got himself situated in the prince's arms, Roman couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm for cuddles. He quickly snaked an arm around Patton's waist, hearing him let out a soft, surprised squeal as he was brought closer to the chest of the larger spoon.

They stayed like that in comfortable silence for a couple minutes, until a low rumbling decided to interrupt their wordless hangout.

"Excuse me?" Roman commented, opening an eye to the moral aspect that was in front of him.

Patton giggled nervously. "Oh that was just my tummy. Ya know...I just ate, so food's settling."

The prince inwardly smirked as an idea began forming in his mind. "Your tummy you say?" He rested his hand around Patton's middle directly on the body part in question. "And it thinks it has the gall to interrupt peace and quiet between me and it's owner?!"

Roman rubbed it gently, causing Patton to squirm a little. The smiles on both aspect's only continued to grow wider. "R-roman? Wh-at?"

"Perhaps it needs to be taught a lesson." Roman grinned devilishly as he began to skitter his fingers lightly along Patton's belly. Patton quickly doubled into light giggles, half-heartedly pushing Roman's attempts at tickling away from his person.

"Wahahait! Rohoman! It's involuhuhuntary!"

Roman clicked his tongue. "Such a big word! Tell me Patton have you been spending more time with Logan than me?! That in itself is a crime! You and your full belly shall be punished equally!" Patton was now giggling into the confines of the blanket, quickly realizing that he had nowhere to escape from Roman's wiggling fingers.

"Ihihihi sahaid I wahahanted to cuhuhuddle!" Patton let out a quick snort when Roman's hand had snaked up under his shirt and squeezed his hip.

"But we are cuddling Patton dearest! Tickling is just one aspect of cuddling! And also, might I add we aren't fighting over what to do as a bonding experience anymore. I believe this is an experience in and of itself. Plus, your laughter is an added bonus!" Roman trapped Patton against his front, now skittering just a bit more rigorously once he noticed Patton trying to escape his clutches.

"Rohohohohohohohoman!!! Nahahaht there!!" His fingers were diligently kneading the skin right under Patton's navel.

"Oh why not here? Are you too ticklish here?" The prince raised an eyebrow at Patton's squeal when one of his pointer fingers slipped into his belly button. "Goodness you are adorable. We should spend time together more often if it means I get to hear your melodious laughter." The giggling continued to spew from Patton's mouth, but turned to high pitched squeals when Roman began nuzzling into his neck.

"Rohohohohomahahahannn!! Stahahahaahppp!!!" Patton turned his body inward towards Roman and beat his chest softly, hoping the prince would take a hint that he had enough.

The prince frowned and slowed his tickles. Though he was sad the intimate moment had passed, there was now no trace of awkwardness between the two sides in the blanket. He had the urge to continue tickling, but refrained in case the moral aspect didn't want it.

Patton must have read his emotions because not a minute later, Patton took one of Roman's hands and rested it on his side. "Just a little lighter? It's not that I mind rougher tickles, it's just...I like to enjoy the intimate touch that comes from my famILY, ya know?"

Roman awwed, and gently tickled Patton's sides up and down. Watching him squeak and squirm as if this was the best experience in the world was really quite therapeutic to the prince. Patton guided his fingers up to his ribs, into his armpits, up to his neck, then back down to his belly, only for the cycle to repeat itself. Once Patton had enough, he gently grabbed Roman's wrists, and the fanciful aspect quickly withdrew.

"Tha-ank you." Patton sheepishly grinned, watching as the realization dawned across Roman's expression.

"Say Patton, this wasn't the intimate thing you were blushing about earlier was it?" The moral aspect fiddled with his wrist.

"Maaaayyybee?" Roman chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to Patton's still pink cheeks.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Patton. It was adorable, and I much rather enjoyed the activity."

Patton yawned and sleepily eyed the side in his arms. "Wouldja want the activity done back to you then sometime?" It was now Roman's turn to flush.

"O-oh...maybe some other time. For now, cuddles are perfectly fine. I'm not opposed to being on the receiving end sometime soon however." The moral aspect pecked Roman on the cheek and snuggled his face closer to his chest.

"Good. Cuz I'll bet that princely laughter is amazing. I'd love to hear a real laugh from you sometime." The royal aspect gave a nervous laugh.

"Sure! It sounds great." But he was thankful when the moral aspect did no other prodding into his real laugh.

Another couple seconds went by before the silence was broken again, but this time by Patton's voice.

"Thank you for cuddling Roman."

"Hm? Oh of course. It's what you wanted and I am also having fun."

"I mean it when I say this Roman, that even if we didn't cuddle, I would have had just as much fun doing any of the things you suggested earlier." Roman took a second to scratch his head.

"Even over this?" Roman gestured to their cuddling position. "Which you clearly wanted so much?"

"Well yeah! Cuddling is always fun, but I still would have been happy with anything else. Wanna know why?"

"Why then?"

"Because the thing I love most of all..." Patton brought his face a little closer to Roman's. "...is spending time with you." Roman flushed a tremendous amount and the grin on Patton's face told him the moral aspect had gotten the reaction he had wanted from him.

"Alright alright. We're even. You and only you can turn me into this mushy sappy mess that I am now."

"I wouldn't have you any other way." Patton pressed another kiss to his cheek before laying his head back down on Roman's chest. "I'm feeling sleepy. Wanna nap together?"

The blush only continued to spread to Roman's neck. "Might as well, I don't feel like getting up anytime soon."

"Then don't! You're too comfy anyways." Patton nuzzled into Roman's neck before letting out a sigh of satisfaction. "Nighty night Roman."

"It's day, but sure. Goodnight...Patton." Patton was asleep long before Roman was able to, but the prince didn't mind. He used that time to think. To think about how much bonding he truly had been missing with the moral aspect. And he could only think about the experiences they could share together if they continued to bond like this. The thought of it all brought a smile to his face as he finally drifted off to sleep.

Taglist: @violetmcl @shadowkittycat97 @chituri @thetickleeraven (Let me know if you want to be on or off my taglist!)

#sanderssides #sanders sides #thomas sanders #thomassanders #royality #princey sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #morality sanders #ts roman #ts patton #tickle fic #tfic #t fic #ticklefic #cefsfic

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bluieeeee · 6 years

Text

Double Hang

Tyrus week, day 4: Double Date

Andi wants to go to an art show with Walker and brings TJ and Cyrus along because she was worried it's weird to hang out with him alone when she's still with Jonah.

Most of this is actually just Tyrus, hardly any real Wandi but there are one or two paragraphs of TJ shipping it.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706356

Cyrus was standing in front of his mirror making sure his outfit was in check, simple but nice, perfect. He ran a comb through his messy hair and glanced down at his phone, two texts from two of his favorite people.

FROM: Andi 12:15 pm:

Are you excited??

TO: Andi 12:20pm:

Yes, I am ecstatic to hang out with my ex-crushes girlfriend with her ex almost crush who has a crush on her :P

FROM: Andi 12:23 pm:

At least TJ will be there!

FROM: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy <3 12:18 pm:

We’re meeting at The Spoon, right?

TO: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy<3 12:20 pm:

YUPPERS!

FROM: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy<3 12:21 pm:

How did we end up dragged into this again?

TO: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy<3 12:22pm:

:)) <33

It was a valid question, Cyrus was wondering the same even though he knew the story;

Cyrus and Andi had been sitting at The Spoon over a plate of baby taters and milkshakes. Buffy had been busy doing something with her mom so it was just them. They had been chatting as usual about random topics, everything from Jonah to Buffy to Tater Theater when Andi got a text from Walker.

FROM: Walker 3:30 pm:

Heyyy! There’s another art show this weekend, wanna come with?

It said. Cyrus looked at it then at Andi. “Well, do you want to go?” he asked.

“Of course I do!” Andi said, “but I don’t think I should.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“Jonah,” she answered.

“What about Jonah?” Cyrus asked, “I thought he was good with him after the art show?”

“He is.” She sets her phone back on the table and groans. “But it’s still weird, isn’t it? Hanging out with a boy who liked or likes me? And who I was starting to like. It’s weird right?”

“Only if you make it weird,” Cyrus said with a shrug before popping another Baby Tater in his mouth.

“I don’t know. I’d feel a lot better about it if it weren’t just us...” She says smiling at Cyrus.

Cyrus pauses his hand going for another tater, “that’s a hint.” He says, “isn’t it?” Her grin widens.

“TJ can come too!” She exclaims.

“Then it will seem like a double date.”

“It’s a double hang!” She argues. Cyrus appreciates the allusion to when he and Jonah went on a “double hang” but feels the need to point out that that was definitely a date. Even if he puked in his shoe at the end.

“Keep in mind, last time I went on a “double hang” I ended up with a girlfriend,” he said. “And a vomit-filled shoe.”

Andi pleaded with him and even offered to buy him another plate of Baby Taters for a solid ten minutes before he finally agreed. And then he had to do the same with TJ an hour later to convince him.

And that’s how he ended up here, getting ready to head to The Spoon to meet his boyfriend.

He was supposed to meet TJ before meeting Walker at the art show. so they could walk together and get something for lunch first, then Andi was coming around 1:30 to head to the art show. The walk to The spoon was approximately 15 minutes and he had twenty minutes until he was supposed to meet him there. He leaned down and tied his shoes and hoped these ones would not end up ruined like the last ones.

TO: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy <3 12:29 pm:

Leaving now! See you soon!

FROM: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy<3 12:30 pm:

I’m almost there, Tater tots and chocolate milkshake?

TO: Not So Scary Boyfriend Guys<3 12:30 pm:

Baby Taters*** but OF COURSE!

He smiled down at his phone before stuffing it into his pocket and walked out the door.

He walked into The Spoon, a few drops of water in his hair and on his shoulder from the beginning of a drizzle. He was relieved, honestly. It was a hot day, but not only hot. Muggy too, like you could feel the dampness in the air clinging to your skin which only made it a hundred times worse. He spotted TJ in a booth towards the back and headed in that direction. He sat in his usual clothes, a hoodie and jeans, and his hair as perfect as ever.

TJ turned and looked in his direction and his mouth instantly formed into a smile lighting up his entire face. Cyrus couldn’t help the smile that formed on his own face at seeing him and seeing him look so happy to see little old him. He walked over to the table TJ was sat at and said a quick greeting.

“Baby Taters!” Cyrus exclaimed before grabbing one and throwing it into his mouth. TJ sat across from his with the cutest smile plastered on his face. “And they're still hot!”

“I told you I was going to order them, Underdog,” TJ said with a sarcastic voice despite his still smiling face.

“Yeah, but they usually take forever!” Cyrus said. He had this weird amount of energy that he hadn’t had before. Maybe it was the baby taters. Though it was more likely just TJ’s presence. “I’m guessing Amber was the waitress?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” TJ confirmed. “How’d you know?”

“That’s the only time I get warm taters,” he explains before sticking another tater in his mouth. “Truly the best part of befriending her” He looked to his left and saw Amber standing there, bored at the cash register. He did a frantic wave with a smile and received the same back.

“How do you do that?” TJ asks curiously, not specifying what he was referring to.

“Do what?” Cyrus asked and took a long sip of the chocolate milkshake in front of him.

“Become friends with anyone,” he said. “Even people your friends hate?” he says before gesturing to himself.

“Did you forget I’m the child of four therapists?” Cyrus questions making TJ laugh. “But really, everyone is redeemable. And neither of you have ever done anything bad to me. My friendships and who I think could make cool or good friends isn’t dictated by Andi or Buffy’s opinions or experiences. Just mine.”

TJ is staring at him with a dazed look in his eye and Cyrus begins to wonder if he zoned out during his tangent. “Sorry, was that rambly and too nice?” He rushes out.

TJ shakes his head quickly, “no! Not at all, I was just… impressed, I guess," He says and Cyrus lets out a relieved breath.

They fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes while Cyrus eats his baby taters, TJ stealing one every few minutes. “So, do I know this guy?” TJ asks.

It takes a confused moment for it to click that he’s talking about Walker but when it does Cyrus asks “Did you get a caricature drawing done at my party?”

“No,” TJ answers.

“Then probably not”

TJ nods, “Who is he?”

Cyrus shrugs, unsure of the answer himself really. “He’s an artist, obviously. He and Andi hung out at my party. I only ever really met him when he came here to draw Buffy, Andi, and I as a going away present for Buffy.” He answers. “He seemed pretty nice.”

TJ nods again and it falls back into the calm silence for a while until Cyrus and he falls into conversations full of smiles, laughter, and teasing.

After what feels like no time Cyrus gets a text from Andi saying she would be there soon and he’s a bit shocked. He really hadn’t realized the time went by that quick. He sends back an okay before letting TJ know.

Ten minutes later, Andi walks in holding the door open with her foot so she can shake out the rainbow umbrella in her hand and Cyrus looks out the window for the first time since he came in. It’s pouring now and Cyrus’s eyes widen. Andi gets to the table with a smile, sporting ripped overall shorts, a stripped t-shirt, and black boots. “How long has it been raining like that?”

“Like, half an hour,” Andi replies shaking her head. “You didn’t notice?” She looks toward the window and back to him.

“Nooo. I didn’t bring an umbrella!” he groans.

TJ pulls something black from under the table and shakes it in the air, “Luckily, I did”

Cyrus makes a relieved ‘Phew’ noise. “Thank God!” he exclaims. “You do not want to see my hair wet. It becomes a mess.”

“You should see mine.” TJ says, “with all this gel.” he cringes inwardly. “Not. nice.”

Cyrus fake pouts, “Looks like we’ll never get the dance and kiss in the rain of my dream,” he says and TJ and Andi both laugh at him. Andi picks up Cyrus’s milkshake and takes a big slurp of it receiving a falsely offended look from Cyrus. She sticks her tongue out and puts the cup back on the table in front of him.

Andi pulls out her phone and looks at the time, “are you guys ready to go?” She asks. TJ looks to Cyrus and they both nod and starts standing up and walking towards the exit. “Wait!” Cyrus says as they get about 3 booths away from their own and runs back and takes a long drink from his cup, finishing off his milkshake before running back to the other two. Andi is smiling at him and TJ playfully rolls his eyes.

On the walk over TJ and Cyrus both hold the umbrella between them, hands overlapping making it so they can hold hands but not draw attention.

At the art show, Walker is already standing outside under a canopy waiting for them. He waves at them quickly. Well, more at Andi than TJ or Cyrus. TJ did vaguely recognize him from the party and recalled thinking the blond streak in his hair looked pretty cool. The building is nice, not much nicer than most of the others on the streets, but it wasn’t a total mess either. Andi ran ahead to Walker and TJ looked to Cyrus. Cyrus seemed to have his thinking face on(which TJ thought was adorable.) watching Andi and Walker go ahead. “What happened to Jonah?” TJ asked.

“Huh?” Cyrus came out of his daze and looked up to TJ. “Oh! Nothing… their just friends.”

“Tell that to Walker,” he retorted. “He’s making mad heart eyes.” he said teasingly.

“Oh you’re one to talk,” Cyrus said with a smile. “TJ Smitten”

TJ dramatically rolls his eyes like he had when he was first given the nickname by Buffy before he had even confessed his feelings to Cyrus.

“Oo!” Cyrus exclaims. “That should be your new name in my phone!”

TJ raises his eyebrows, “Do I wanna know what it is now?”

“Not So Scary Boyfriend Guy!” Cyrus said. He should have guessed. Both of their nicknames from the swingset have stuck, though TJ often called Cyrus Muffin or Somersault depending on the mood. The two slight changes made TJ smile.

They are now approaching the entrance when Cyrus and TJ both hear from a few feet ahead “Bas mitzvah boy! Hey!” Cyrus waves from where he is. They finally reach the canopy and TJ tightens his hand around Cyrus’s before taking the umbrella and shaking it out.

“About time, slowpokes,” And says teasingly to them.

“Well, sorry we didn’t take off running with you,” Cyrus retorts.

Andi rolls her eyes. “Walker this is TJ, TJ, Walker,” she says and they shake hands.

TJ is convinced this might be the longest date of his life. There are multiple factors that lead to this.

Firstly is, he isn’t much of an art guy. He can’t hold a conversation about a piece of art for the life of him, whereas Walker and Andi seem to be able to hold half hour long conversations for each painting or drawing. Cyrus seems to be the same, though. So they came up with a game. They both would give the most bullcrap explanations for every painting and whoever's explanation is better or funnier, gets a point.

Secondly, watching Walker pine over Andi was almost painful. But what was worse was seeing how animated and happy Andi seemed around him. TJ couldn’t help but wonder why they weren’t together. As of now TJ had only really seen Andi upset by or stressed out because of Jonah. But she didn’t seem like that with Walker. But, alas, just because he had an amazing relationship now didn’t make him an expert on relationships so he told himself to but out.

And lastly, he couldn’t hold Cyrus’s hand. He wasn’t entirely sure why but he felt that extra push to today. And though he was tempted to just say screw it and take his hand in his own, he couldn’t. They had both decided to keep their relationship a bit quiet for now and not show tons of PDA or tell everyone who would listen. Plus, this place was full of older people, and you never really know how they will respond to two boys holding hands.

Andi and Walker both stopped again and looked at another piece of art, only this one, as far as TJ could tell was was a just a mirror, albeit a nice mirror. It was probably some “You are art” thing. Cyrus looked up at him and said: “What do think this one is about?”

He thought about it for a moment before going with it, “I think it’s about those two boys” he gestures at the mirror and the TJ inside it gestures back. “The really cute one and the tall one.” He clarifies he sees Cyrus’s cheeks go pink in the mirror. “And about how clearly the taller one wants to take the cute one's hand,” he adds quietly.

Cyrus smiles, and the back of their hands brush softly together and it sends little tingles up TJ’s arm. After another second Cyrus interlocks, their pinkies and TJ feels a stupidly big smile pull at his mouth and he feels himself blush so he looks down and away.

Andi and Walker start walking again, TJ can hear their giggling and sees Andi nudge him in the side with her elbow. He can’t help but root for Walker again. They really do seem good for each other.

TJ and Cyrus follow a few feet behind with their pinkies still interlocked at their sides where no one can really tell. Walker and Andi stop and Andi seems to gasp and gesture for them to catch up and they walk a little bit faster, trying not to swing their connected arms too much.

“Isn’t this one just beautiful guys?”

On the wall hangs a canvas with a painting with a silhouette of two people, you can’t really tell their gender or ages, on a swing set against a beautiful light blue shade that’s stunning against the black silhouettes. “Yeah,” TJ says. “It really is.” he feels a smile pull and looks down to Cyrus.

#tyrus week #tyrus fanfic #tyrus week day 4 #double date #andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #walker brodsky #myfanfic

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4419s · 6 years

Text

blackout. | han jisung

+ fluff, high school!au, best friend!jisung, alcohol mention, swearing + word count: 2.9k + In the scenario of one of us gets way too drunk and says something that they really, really shouldn’t, Jisung’s always been the careful one. He’s surprised when it pays off, and for once, he isn’t the one caught running his mouth.

The pulse of the booming trap song’s bassline shakes the room and inside his chest, Han Jisung’s heart beats loudly alongside it. Underneath the magenta strobe lights, you’re dancing- tugging at his hand for him to dance with you.

“Come on, relax a little!” You prod, dangling your red plastic cup in front of him before taking a swig. The song hits its chorus and you drop Jisung’s hand to raise your arms and sway your body to the speakers’ reverb.

But how could he relax? How could he relax when you’re dressed to kill, looking way too good to be good for him? When your tipsy smile is so brilliant that he finds it constantly electrifying, even in the dim pauses alternating the flashing party lights? When you’re slipping your fingers through his again and lifting your hands to spin yourself around and around underneath the curve of his arm, laughing when he gives you that adorable, baffled look-

How could he relax when he realizes right then and there that maybe, just maybe, he wants to actually admit to you that he loves you a little more than a best friend should?

“Fucking dance with me, Jisung!” You interrupt his thread of thoughts, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t have time to be annoyed at how much of a pushy drunk you are, however, because in the blink of an eye, you’re leaning in too close, too quickly. The way your makeup-smeared eyelids slip shut and how your head falls forward makes the boy’s vision tilt; doing him more damage than the single shot of tequila he had downed earlier could. He isn’t sure if your intoxicated brain is making you do that on purpose or if you’re actually passing out on him right now, but he’s certain that if he had moved half a second too late, your lips would have sunk straight into his.

“Wh-! Dance by yourself, loser,” Jisung sputters, steadying your wobbly frame with worried, wide eyes despite the backhanded insult. “I’m going out for a breather, okay? Go bother Hyunjin for a few minutes or something.”

“Oops, sorry,” you giggle, stumbling but seemingly unfazed by the brief brush of his cheek against your mouth. Jisung moves to escape you with a playful roll of his eyes, but you cling onto his arm groggily. “Wait! Ugh, what- are you dumb? You’re my... best friend. You’re the one I’m supposed to bother!”

“Uh, yeah, I think we both need that fresh air, actually,” Jisung stifles a laugh and pats the top of your head, gently placing a hand against the small of your back to guide you through the throng of equally piss-drunk teenagers and towards the front doors. He’s not surprised by the sheer amount of kids trying to relieve some stress by indulging in temporary fun and rowdy company. The school had just ended and everyone was keen on starting the summer break with .

“Yeah, dumbass... take... take me with you,” you slur, slumping against the support of Jisung’s side. The brown-haired boy lets out a sigh, stealing a glance at how your head is nestled into the bend of his shoulder. For a fleeting second, he muses on the thought of how right it felt for his arm to be around your waist just like this. He clicks his tongue and pushes away the jittery feeling suddenly gnawing at him, choosing instead to focus on preventing you from faceplanting.

You both step through the main entrance to be greeted with a similarly packed, large front yard. Among the high school kids sharing packs of cheap beer, another set of speakers sit in the background, relaying the same party mix that’s playing on the ones inside the house. Fairy lights run haphazardly through tree branches and string out in lines across the charcoal sky, setting a much more mellow atmosphere in contrast to the previous chaos of beaming lights.

“God, what are there a shit-ton of people here for?” You groan, stumbling to pull Jisung along farther from the crowd.

“Duh, it’s Chan’s party. He knows everyone, [Y/N],” he replies, carefully hovering close behind, should your body choose to collapse on itself as you lead him to the outskirts of the party. You find an isolated curb on the edge of the lawn that satisfies you, and you plop down on the ground, motioning for him to sit with you.

“Oh, right! Chan! He’s cute, huh? His dimples... real cute...” you exclaim in response to his comment, perking up with recognition.

Jisung can’t help it when his heart sinks like a damn ship in his ribcage.

“He’s so nice too! Can you believe that? Honestly, how is he still single? Ugh, whatever. Must be because he’s always buried in work. Beats me,” you ramble on. In your baked state, you miss how the boy sitting in front of you visibly deflates.

This seems like such a joke to him. A cruel one, at that. In fact, he nearly laughs- the reason why he’s so cautious about staying clearheaded around you is because he knows all too well that drunk Jisung equals a hundred times more unfiltered Jisung, and that only opens up a million ways for him to slip up in front of your face. Drunk Jisung would know exactly how to get over himself and cough up the confession that’s been eating at him since the fifth grade. Drunk Jisung definitely, most certainly wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut about what he’s been meaning to say for so, so long.

Drunk Jisung would not pass up the opportunity to tell you that he likes you.

Yet, here you are- the hammered [Y/N] to his sober self. You’re going on about how you adore his other friends, recalling how cute Jeongin is, or how funny the thing Minho said the other day was. Every offhanded compliment you dish out about Woojin or Changbin, or about Hyunjin, Seungmin, or Felix drives another pin of jealousy into his gut. It makes him a little sick- guilty too, but here’s the thing: he can admit that he’s always expected the roles to be reversed if he weren’t always on guard; except his affections would revolve entirely around you.

Jisung watches you talk animatedly. The warm lights behind you cast a pretty glow against your figure. High above you, the crescent moon hangs a curtain of faded-out, pale moonlight that runs across the planes of your face and illuminates your features. The arch of your smile softens as your giggling dies down, and he snaps out of his absentmindedness when he sees you studying him back with an intent gaze that mirrors his own. And in that moment, he realizes that there isn’t anything he wants more than to be drunk out of his mind just to be able to tell you how he feels.

Maybe... it doesn’t really matter. She won’t remember jack shit about tonight anyway. Tell her, a nagging voice in the back of his head coaxes the teenager. His breath catches in his throat when you lean forward by a centimeter.

You don’t need anything else but the choice to be brave. Do it already.

In three- Jisung’s stomach is turning itself inside out as he straightens, plucking up just enough courage to look straight back into your eyes.

Two- despite his inner attempts to pull himself together, the butterflies he’s holding back go into a frenzy. Pairs of persistent wings flutter and tickle him, warming him up and egging him on.

One- who cares if his confession is in vain? He’s going to say it. He has to say it.

Your focused stare swallows him whole. The determined expression that appears on your face out of nowhere unnerves him even more, but he still opens his mouth and scrambles for the words he so desperately needs to get out. Just three words, and he’ll feel all better-

“I like you,” you blurt out, stopping Jisung dead in his tracks.

He waits for three, two, one seconds. He waits for what feels like an eternity for you to say “just kidding!” or maybe “you should see your face right now, ji,” but that doesn’t happen, and so he decides to finally find his voice, and a little bit of his courage.

“That’s my line,” is his reply, voice barely over a disbelieving whisper. His heart, which had been thrumming at a rhythm to rival a hummingbird’s, feels as if its emergency brake had been yanked at all of a sudden. It’s spiraling out of control for a few breathtaking moments before it’s turbulence comes to a halting standstill. If he was hooked up to a heart rate monitor right now, you’d see him flatlining.

“I like you,” you repeat, a little sturdier and a little soberer, but your eyelids are still heavy and your words are still slurring as you reach out to grip his forearm with an insistent, almost pleading touch. “So much... I like you more than... taking naps during that boring physics period we have after lunch. Who in the fresh fuck thought that would be a decent idea anyway?” you continue, softly shaking his arm as if you were trying to convince him. “I’ve liked you since forever... Like, even before Minho got his fucking cats! Do you know how long that is? Those cats are, like... older than my grandma... bet...”

Jisung wants to say something. He wants to laugh at your ridiculous, drunken analogies. Wants to teasingly mention how you can’t possibly kiss your mom with how much of a sailor mouth you have when you’re wholly shit-faced. He wants, he wants, he wants so badly to say something fun and dumb and annoying like “you’ve already stolen my heart and now you’re gonna steal my thunder too?!”, but he’s horrified to find his throat as dry as the Sahara, and the words he had quietly reserved for you are barely making their way past his lips because there isn’t any air in his lungs to help him push them out. He can’t even find his shaky pulse anymore- it’s lost in between the buildup of the music in the background and the loop of your confession playing on his thoughts as he tries his best to process what you’d said. He opens his mouth to try again, but you cut him off for the second time tonight.

“W-Wait... I’m... feeling kinda sick,” is what you manage to mumble.

Han Jisung barely registers the beat drop of Wasted by Tiësto echoing into his ears as you flinch away from him, turning around to empty out several cups of half-digested vodka sprite onto the street.

And then, you black out for real.

Your press the heels of your hands against your closed eyes, rubbing against ruined mascara. You’re fairly certain that you have the city dumpster raccoon look going on for you right now, but the boy standing to your left and setting down a drugstore bottle of aspirin on your nightstand is being nice enough not to make fun of you for it.

“So... I passed out?”

“Yep. The lightweight jumped out!” Jisung offers you a toothy grin, passes you a tall glass of water, and pulls his hand up to card his fingers through your hair. You peek at him in the soft morning light of your bedroom and your heart warms. He’s so bright. All endearingly crooked teeth and wide, wide smiles. Smiles that you can see in his cheeks and in his eyes and in the way it lights up the area around him.

“Ew, shut up. You’re not being funny right now,” you say, words laced with a laugh. It’s a blatant lie, obviously. You’ve been hungover the whole morning and Jisung is the first person to make you smile and forget your splitting migraine for more than a minute. The divide of his fingers in between your locks distract you and you look up to meet his eyes, corners of your lips quirking up to return your own affectionate smile. “You are being sweet, though. What’s up?”

He shifts from one foot to another. The faint pink that surfaces and then settles across his face confuses you, but it sets off the feeling of a bouquet blooming inside of your chest either way.

Jisung had let himself in fifteen minutes earlier with only a short text that read ‘omw to take care of ur vodka aunt ass’ to notify you. Your household had grown so accustomed to the spontaneous nature of his visits over the years that your mom insists he should keep your spare key instead. He turns it down every time she suggests it, saying that he would most likely end up moving in with you and joking that the rental payments you issue are ridiculous.

“Well, you did throw up on the concrete, and you did burden me with the responsibility of carrying your unconscious body home. Do you know how many people stopped me to ask if I murdered you and if I was looking for a yard to bury the body in?” he rants, faking an exaggerated look of exasperation on his face. You let out a low whistle and sputter out a loud laugh. “I’m serious, I looked sketchy as hell! Felix was about ready to dial 911 when he saw me dragging you to Chan’s car without any context.” He insists, giving you a pointed look. You laughter settles down and you wipe away at the corners of your eyes, Jisung watching you in amusement. He shakes his head slightly with a tiny smile on his face, allowing his gaze to drop down to the ground. A certain fondness washes over you as you watch him. You’re both chest-deep in a pleasant silence, taking in the comfort you brought each other.

“But, I guess what I’m trying to say is... I was worried about the girl I like,” Jisung speaks softly after a short while, like he’s sharing a secret with you.

You would have reveled in the absolute serenity of the moment had you not choked on the drink you were sipping. An embarrassing, ten-second long coughing fit ensues and you repeatedly pound a closed fist against your chest to get yourself together. Your best friend rubs soothing circles on your back with big, concerned eyes, but it’s only making it a bit harder to breathe properly.

“S-sorry. Huh?”

Jisung takes a short breath and your surprised that it sounds shakier than your own voice right now. Your bed sinks with his weight as he drops down to sit right in front of you, hand moving to briefly push his hair back with a sigh.

“I like you, [Y/N]. I like you more than you like sleeping through afternoon classes,” he explains in reply to your previous response (or lack thereof), messing with the frayed hems of his grey hoodie. It’s old and worn-out and you couldn’t count on your fingers the amount of times you’ve borrowed it for yourself. More often than not for the comfort of knowing it belongs to you just as much as it belongs to Jisung, rather than for the purpose of keeping away the cold. “I like you more than I should if you decide to keep calling me just your best friend.”

“Shit, man, that’s a lot,” you murmur solemnly, trying hard to contain the anticipation you’re feeling. You’re wondering whether or not the alcohol actually has worn off, because you think you’re totally hallucinating one of the romanticized confessions that you come up with in your daydreams. Jisung only smiles crookedly and lets out a tiny snort. Your heart stutters when he decides to catch your hands and hold them in his. “But,” you trail on, “I’ve always liked you more than you like me so you lose by default.”

The grin that breaks out on his face is a hundred percent priceless, but you find yourself in motion before you can fully appreciate its radiance. It feels like you’re moving on autopilot when you lean forward. You feel Jisung’s hands glide up to rest at your upper arms, but your eyes shut too soon for you to watch them move. Something like déjà vu tugs at your inside, joining in with the backflips your stomach is performing. The familiarity of it is warm and welcoming, though, and it comforts you; making you feel like this is just right.

Jisung’s lips meet yours. You feel how he’s holding back that same grin to be able to give you a proper kiss and your heart threatens to actually explode. His kisses are so like him- they’re sweet and dizzying and you feel as if you can’t get enough of them. It’s gentle and a bit playful, and when he pulls away to plant light pecks across the bridge of your nose, up onto your forehead and then back down atop your eyelids, you think you’re going to lose it with how cute he is.

“All right, best friend- or am i supposed to call you something else now?” You giggle, bringing your arms up to hang lazily from Jisung’s shoulders.

He pretends to think, humming and furrowing his eyebrows. Impatience gets the best of his act, however, and he can’t help his beaming expression. “I don’t really care as long as I get to kiss you again.”

You find that you don’t mind that much either. All that matters is his arms now linked around your waist and your giddy laughter filling the space in between the both of you, getting quieter as he draws you in to press his lips against yours.

#uh hello!!!!#fair warning this is barely proofread. im a true dumb bitch #oh yeah n idk if its just me but the format was truly fucked up so i tried fixing it!!#ngl writing this threw me across the room by the throat n back into my solid jisung phase : ) so thts cool #ALSO KINDA shy!jisung bc hes a nervous lil shit when hes in his feelings for u #BUT DM ME IF U THINK ITS OOC OOWJKDWJ IDK ANYTHIGN #but then also those posts abt jisung being a real lowkey introvert #gets me so soft its actually gross #fuck man my CHEST i actuallt breathe for this mf #han jisung #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids jisung #skz jisung #stray kids han #skz han #han jisung scenario #han jisung imagine #han jisung fluff #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #t:scenario #t:au #w:skz #alcohol tw #honestly this fic was just me stringing incoherent sentences together until i felt like. half satisfied but thats writing ig #this took me a while to write but even longer to post bc tumblr ... shes actually the most incompetent site in the world!!#a knee ways thx for reading this actual 2k+ shitpost #i realize this is short compared to other posts ive seen which is ridiculous n also incredible but this is also 6 pages on google docs so

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roseymoseyberry · 7 years

Text

Pining (one-shot)

God bless @semianonymity for commissioning me to write this ot4 with as much pining as I could squeeze in. Which when you have four robots involved, there’s a lot of pining to be had, haha. But I love all of these bots so, so, SO much, and I’m so happy that I had to opportunity to actually do something with them all!

Hopefully y’all enjoy this pile of bots who all need to learn how to fucking talk to each other but I still love them so much, haha.

Title: Pining

Series: MTMTE

Ship: Swerve/Whirl/Tailgate/Cyclonus, and all the combinations therein

Rating/warnings: PG or maybe PG-13 for brief mentions of interface in conversations and robot swearing, a bit of casual joking about suicide, mentions of violence but nothing onscreen that’s actually dangerous. Otherwise it’s just fluff and pining and pining and fluff and crushes aplenty.

Summary:

“If I’ve learned anything, good lookin’, it’s that nothing brings mecha together better than fighting together. Except maybe fighting each other. Either way we come out winners.”

Whirl drags Swerve into a scheme to get Tailgate and Cyclonus together, but impossible crushes make everything more complicated.

“Ok, but they’re a couple of complete idiots, right?”

Swerve looked up from the drink he was mixing to flash a confused smile at Whirl, already chuckling even though he wasn’t sure what about.

“Who?” he asked, quickly scanning the room to look for troublemakers. Skids, Brainstorm, and Nautica debating up a storm in one booth, Ratchet and Rung having quiet conversation in another, Chromedome and Rewind gathering a crowd as they were no doubt showing off Rewind’s ability to recognize transformation sounds and gleaning some shanix from overcharged crewmembers who doubted them—

Whirl’s claw closed on the sides of Swerve’s helm and turned it towards the corner.

“Those disgusting love birds.”

“Oh,” Swerve managed before a genuine huff of his vents escaped.

Tailgate had taken the two drinks that Swerve had moments before made for him and already placed them on the table between him and Cyclonus. Both drinks had curly straws poking out of them, and given the way that Tailgate was gesturing at Cyclonus, visor flashing with playful glee, he was no doubt trying to get Cyclonus to use his. The frown that Cyclonus was giving him was quickly softening before Swerve’s very visor.

It was sweet enough that Swerve felt his spark pulse a little faster. Tailgate’s mischief was always cute enough to make him smile, and Cyclonus’s soft side made his spark ache a bit–

“Yeah, they’re something alright,” Swerve managed, returning his gaze to Whirl as he shrugged and went back to finishing the drink in his servos. “It was funny when everyone but Ultra Magnus was betting on when they’d finally clinch it, but at this point nobody is making money because no one in their right mind would have thought they could put it off this long.”

“I had the last betting slot,” Whirl confirmed, claws clacking as they settled on the bar. His optic was still squarely focused on the couple. “They all called me an idiot, but I knew what I was doing. I knew these chucklefrags would take forever. But this?” Whirl flung his arm out dramatically, helm turned to stare Swerve right in the visor, sounding completely serious as he spoke. “Someday soon I’m gonna just slam my misshapen head into this bar until I offline myself just to escape this ‘will they won’t they’ hell.”

Swerve found himself caught between laughing and hoping desperately that no one else in the bar noticed them as he leaned closer to speak quietly.

“Not if I beat you to it,” he joked. As soon as it was out though, Swerve regretted it. After the Swearth incident, comments like that simply didn’t work the way it did when other mecha made them, and just garnered him uncomfortable pitying comments.

But Whirl actually snickered as he replied, “You already had your chance at offing yourself, so be a pal and give somebody else a chance, would ya?”

Rung wouldn’t have approved, called it bad coping, and it was, for sure. But Swerve felt his spark ease at the pitiless honesty of Whirl’s humor.

“Not if you’re gonna do it here in the bar.”

“What if I hire somebody ahead of time to clean up afterwards? You don’t have to even be here, just drop the keys in my capable claws and it will all be over before you know it.”

“No!” Swerve laughed, picking up a towel to smack Whirl on the shoulder with. “How would I get by without one of my best customers?”

“Wooooow, you mean it? Because last I heard, me strolling in here has a one in five chance of violent chaos, which doesn’t a ‘best’ customer make.”

“One in eleven,” Swerve corrected as he finished the drink. “Which means you spend just enough on engex to make up for the times you wreck the place.”

“Wreckers are what we are, even exes.” Before Swerve had even realized what was happening, the drink was plucked out of his servos by Whirl’s claw. It was already well within the copter’s grip and Whirl’s intake clicked open.

“H-hey! That’s not yours!”

“I thought I was your best customer!” Whirl jeered, snickering when Swerve reached out towards him and batting his servos away. While Swerve had proportionally large servos given his minibot frame, there were few bots who could give Whirl’s pinchers a run for their money.

“One of them! And now I’m changing my mind!” Swerve caught his lip between his dentae as Whirl’s optic was trained right on him and his claw tipped the drink until a splash of the liquid dribbled into his funnel-like intake where it jutted out from his neck.

Swerve slumped a bit, exasperated and irritated, but not truly mad.

Whirl’s helm tilted to one side, optic cycling as if he was thinking deeply on the drink.

“Hmm. Yeah, no, you’re right. This drink isn’t mine,” Whirl agreed, casual as could be as he placed the glass back on the bar.

Swerve shook his helm with a bemused ex-vent as he pushed the drink back towards Whirl and reached for a new glass. “Well, it’s yours now, buddy. And don’t think I’m not adding it to your tab.”

“But I don’t even like it!” Whirl whined, clacking his pinchers at the offending glass.

“You told me yourself that you can’t even taste them,” Swerve reminded him as he went about mixing the same drink again for its rightful customer.

“True, but I can still tell how strong a drink is, and that? That’s a drink better suited for cute little minibots like you.”

Swerve’s visor flashed as his face heated, and his servos paused in their movement. Unfortunately, that moment was when he was pouring the sweet additive, and that second was all it took to take the drink from sweet to sickening. Swerve jerked to his senses and cursed as he took in the damage.

Yeah, no. The drink was a goner.

Whirl’s optic was bright with mischief.

“Well, well, look who’s easy to fluster. I’m so going to take advantage of that.”

Swerve frowned as he tried to decide what to do with his mess, if just so he could ignore the way he was definitely hot to the touch now. It was unsalvageable taste-wise. But Primus, he did not want to start the drink again.

He peeked over at the drink that Whirl had stolen. Other than the first gulp of it, it was untouched.

Nodding, Swerve grabbed a mid-tier engex to fill up the disaster drink and swapped it for original drink. All it took was a decorative jelly treat thrown in to sink to the bottom to have the drink topped off again.

“Whoa, hold on! That’s mine!”

“You didn’t even like it and you can’t taste anyway, so where’s the harm,” Swerve replied, trying for chiding but he couldn’t help grinning at the way Whirl huffed indignantly. “Sorry, but you’ll just have to live with your mistakes.”

“Only because you won’t let me use your bar for my dark purposes,” Whirl quipped.

It really was a near thing as Swerve burst out laughing, clutching the drink to his chassis so it wouldn’t spill.

“Frag, Whirl, you’re awful!” he managed between wheezing in-vents and Whirl cackled in response.

“You’re the one laughing at my joke, sicko!”

Swerve had planned on delivering the drink himself, but he was nearly bent in half as Whirl continued with his rambling complaints, so he finally just settled it on the service drone and sent it on its way.

“Just be a good customer and drink your drink,” Swerve said as he opened his vents to air out the heat of his frame now that he could blame it on the laughing.

“I don’t want your frag up.”

“It’s at least twice as strong as the other one.”

Whirl’s optic brightened and the drink was clutched between his pincers instantly.

“Why didn’t you say so, cutie? Love your frag ups. They’re the best.”

Swerve’s spark clenched tight in his chest and it was all he could do to keep his cooling fans from turning on. “You know, I think I like it better when you’re joking about fragged up we are. At least then I know you’re being honest, you know?”

“I’m always honest,” Whirl insisted as he poured the drink into his intake funnel. “Be it about how fragged up we all are or loving your adorable mistakes, I’m always one hundred percent, and don’t you forget it.”

Once the whole glass had been emptied, Whirl imitated a lip-smacking sound and “ahh” before slamming the glass on the counter. “And that’s why you’re gonna believe me when I tell you that we’re going to get those fragwits together. Because that?” His arm gestured back at the table where Tailgate and Cyclonus sat, and even Swerve had to groan as he watched Cyclonus make a face, trying to drink through the straw before finally shaking his head and Tailgate was giggling loud enough for the whole bar to hear as he nodded insistently and swatted at Cyclonus’s servos when he tried to remove the straw. They were both so cute it was unbearable, and between that and Whirl’s comments, Swerve was pretty sure his spark had swelled enough to choke him. “They are not allowed to do that and not be dating. It’s like a terrible Schrödinger’s trap, because they’re so disgustingly cute that you can’t decide if want them to smooch each other or you, you know? I don’t even have a mouth and it’s driving me mad!”

Swerve had his servos braced on the bar surface and leaned in close before he could even think twice, whispering fervently, “Yes. I thought it was just me, but that’s exactly it, right? You want them together because they’d be so good together, but also like, then they’d be off the market so you can finally stop going down ‘what if’ paths in your head.”

“I could finally recharge at night not thinking about how to trick them into thinking I’m worth joining for a tumble in my berth,” Whirl agreed, his optic twisting into his own facsimile of a smirk. “Can move on to tricking them both into it, am I right?”

Swerve’s face felt like it was on fire, his servos twisting together as he felt his grin wobble.

“I mean, I can’t really say you’re wrong–”

Whirl’s pincer was surprisingly gentle when it settled on Swerve’s shoulder, giving his tire a supportive squeeze.

“Then let’s get those idiots together.”

Overwhelming excitement kept Swerve up that night, and he blamed it completely and totally on the fact that he had been invited to help in a romantic scheme. Hell, he had been dragged into it really! Whirl insisted that he needed his help, and that thought alone made Swerve feel light as a feather.

Alright, maybe he should have been a little concerned that it was a plan concocted by Whirl. And truthfully, he had been at first when Whirl had pushed out of his seat abruptly and told Swerve that he’d be by his habsuite after the bar closed for further details, his helm turning this way and that, as if watching out for anyone eavesdropping on them. At first Swerve had thought it sort of paranoid, but the way that Rewind had ever so slightly followed Whirl’s departure from the bar, and then ever so casually went up to the bar to ask what the two had been laughing so much about, made it clear that no. It wasn’t paranoid.

Secrets were hard to keep on the Lost Light.

By the time that Swerve had shut down for the night and was heading back to his room, anxiety was starting to get the better of him. What if it was all just a prank? A joke at his expense? Everyone on the ship knew his love for situational shenanigans so it would have been far too easy to take advantage of that to mess with him.

But Whirl had been there waiting for him.

And once the door was shut they had, for lack of a better word, conspired together.

Whirl immediately started explaining to Swerve that Brainstorm had been working on a secret project that had actually managed to get even Ultra Magnus’s approval. For the time being it was just a simple enough battle simulation arena, though Brainstorm already had add-ons in mind to make it more exciting.

As Whirl described it though, Swerve quickly laughed and interrupted, saying, "You mean paintball? Brainstorm is making a paintball arena?”

Whirl’s optic brightened.

“Oh, he finished it.”

It was for ‘stress relief’ and working through ‘trauma’ – both rung true to Swerve, but he let Whirl have his quotation marks – but really, it was the perfect solution to their problem.

“If I’ve learned anything, good lookin’, it’s that nothing brings mecha together better than fighting together. Except maybe fighting each other. Either way we come out winners.”

Swerve was doing his absolute best to ignore every petname that Whirl had decided to start dropping. It was better to ignore Whirl’s long-running gags and wait until he grew bored of them himself.

But they had ended up sitting next to each other on Swerve’s berth since there wasn’t really any other furniture to sit on except the other empty berth in the room and Whirl had chosen to sit next to Swerve on his instead, and Swerve had no idea how to even begin to question it. And at that point they were at ease, and Whirl had even fallen back against the berth so his claws were waving around above him, and it was all very–

Well. It was hard to ignore how nice it was.

The plan was simple enough. Swerve and Whirl would challenge Cyclonus and Tailgate to a match, and in doing so force the two to communicate and work together to win. Once they started talking and collaborating and had the rush of battle success pumping through their sparks, it was just a hop and a skip for them to finally divulge their feelings to each other and “hump like turborabbits” as Whirl had insisted on putting it.

Swerve had worried about all the pitfalls therein, but Whirl had been adamant.

Whirl was certain they would take up the challenge.

“Cyclonus might not be interested, but Tailgate? He’s a feisty one. He’ll absolutely get into the competitive spirit. And we both know that for all his huffing, Cyclonus will give in. Hell, I don’t mind badgering him if he needs the extra push. It’d be my pleasure.”

Whirl was certain that they would work together.

“Look, Cyclonus may be good and Tailgate unexperienced, but it would kill Tailgate if he had to let that lug take all the glory. That little guy is gonna throw himself into it, and Cyclonus is gonna have to figure out how to work with him or else trip over him constantly and lose it. Plus, he’s going up against yours truly. He’s gonna need help.”

And Whirl was certain that Swerve was important.

"Look, I get it, I get it. You have the slagging worst aim of anyone on this ship. But I have that side of things handled. You’re there because I need your big mouth along with mine to really rile them up. Plus let’s be honest here, Cyclonus is so fragging weak against helpless minibots. You’ll handicap him with your adorable face and complete lack of ability to hit anything smaller than a wall. And if things turn sideways, it’ll only go well for you if he decides to go for a different cute minibot, you feel me, beautiful?”

“But–”

“Besides, who the frag else is crazy enough to team up with me?”

It was a ridiculous idea, but it was so fun and Swerve’s spark felt full enough to burst.

And if Swerve and Whirl just ended up ranting and raving about the two bots well into the night, well. At least they couldn’t judge each other for their shared crushes.

This was totally going to work.

This wasn’t going to work.

Oh, sure, they had agreed to the match. Swerve had made the first move by telling Tailgate about how he had found out about the new paintball arena that would be opening soon, and how Whirl had dragged him into a two-mech team, so they were looking for a pair to battle.

Tailgate had easily agreed, practically bouncing in his seat as he talked about how much fun it would be, and that he and Cyclonus could definitely take them on! The other minibot had nearly made a dash to find Cyclonus and tell him right then and there, but he stopped half a step away and spun on his heel, his visor bright but the light band narrowed as he focused on Swerve.

“Whirl, huh? I did notice you two getting along reeeeeally well last night, and Rewind told me that Whirl left your habsuite this morning. Was that just paintball plotting or–?”

Swerve had turned red hot as he stammered out that it was just a friendly affair, no no not that type of affair, just hanging out!

Tailgate’s giggles were heavenly as he patted Swerve’s servo and assured him that they would be cute, even if Whirl was a handful.

“Or, well, maybe even because he is, right? He’s intimidating, but it’s always exciting with Whirl around. I’ve always kind of wanted to spend more time with him, you know? You should invite me next time you have a ‘friendly’ hangout.”

When Swerve had later told Whirl that, the copter had made a dismissive snorting noise, but Swerve was pretty sure it was meant to hide how flustered the information made him. A light touch to Whirl’s hip, disguised as a friendly gesture when Swerve turned the tables to tease Whirl, revealed how warm he had become to the touch.

Swerve purposely avoided mentioning that Tailgate had taken ahold of his servos while insisting that the battle would be so much fun, that he had to go tell Cyclonus but that later they should hang out, maybe go to the shooting range to practice together since neither of them were great shots, and Swerve had felt like he was walking on cloud nine for a good hour afterwards.

And oh, sure, Cyclonus had agreed to the match after approaching Swerve during a shared break, his face stern as he asked Swerve if he had been bullied into it by Whirl. His concern had Swerve choked up, and his large servo on Swerve’s shoulder was so nice, simultaneously calming and exciting. And when Swerve had assured him that no, he wasn’t being forced, that he was actually as excited about it as Whirl was, the corner of Cyclonus’s lips had curled as he nodded, relieved.

And within the hour Cyclonus had tracked Whirl down and the two had had one of their glaring matches as he told the copter that he accepted his challenge. Thankfully Rewind had been there and was eager to share the video with Swerve and Tailgate over their evening energon.

Swerve didn’t really get warrior types. He didn’t get the glaring, the snippy back and forth, the unspoken challenges. But Whirl’s optic had been bright and the right shade of excited, and Cyclonus’s lips curled into an almost eager smirk when he had turned and stalked away.

It was with the flutter in his spark that Swerve realized what a terrible mess he had found himself in.

Sure, the scheme was on track.

But now two impossible crushes had become three impossible crushes.

And spending that evening at the shooting range with Tailgate and quickly joined by Cyclonus and Whirl who insisted on helping their respective teammates, and then the opposing teammates when they were sure the other was teaching them wrong, surrounded by Tailgate’s bubbly laughs and Cyclonus’s calming touches and Whirl’s boundless energy—

How could this plan possibly work when Swerve was already feeling crushed by the pressure of his pounding spark and the knowledge that it was soon going to break under it all? All he wanted to do was hide away in his habsuite until the whole thing had passed.

But the day came, and Whirl was knocking on his door bright and early, his optic twisted into a half-moon smile as he said they should get in one last practice session before the game.

And it was hard to say no when Swerve had come to love the solid touch of claws on his shoulders.

“Look, it’s pretty simple. You aim the gun, you hit the other team, it leaves a big splotch of paint, and afterwards I use my scanner here to tally which of you got hit the most and thus loses,” Brainstorm explained quickly, practically bouncing on his pedes. Somehow Whirl had managed to convince the scientist that their challenge should be the test run of the battle simulation, so it was no wonder the scientist was so excited to get started. “Best of three rounds wins. Any questions? Great!”

And he was off like a shot, leaving the four bots to face each other. Whirl’s engines were purring with glee and Tailgate’s visor was blindingly bright. Even Cyclonus couldn’t keep his face completely neutral.

And despite himself, Swerve grinned too. He was filled to bursting with nervous energy, and honestly couldn’t really separate out the bad from the good anymore, so he just leaned into the excitement of the others.

“Better hold on to your afts,” Whirl said as he hefted his gun up onto his shoulder. It had been customized to fit his pincers, and was large to hold a large number of the paint pellets inside. When he cocked his hip, the belt around it wobbled, filled with more paint pellets should he need to reload. The same belt was on the rest of them, though for Swerve it was magnetized since he did not have the sort of waistline necessary to keep a belt from falling to his pedes.

As they had practiced, Swerve hefted his gun too, resting it on his opposite shoulder so that they mirrored each other.

“Because we’re about to hand them to you,” Swerve continued, and alright. It was so, so dumb and goofy. He had known it was goofy when they came up with it together, but Swerve hadn’t fully realized how dumb it was. But it seemed to be just the right kind as Tailgate made a ‘pfft’ sound and tugged at Cyclonus’s servo.

“Oh yeah?! Well, you better watch out, because we’re the ones who are gonna get your afts!”

Swerve watched as Cyclonus’s optics slowly offlined, completely aware of how Tailgate’s words sounded and just waiting for—

Whirl cackled. “Naughty, naughty,” he teased before reaching down and hooking his arm around Swerve, lifting him without preamble. Swerve yelped as Whirl turned on his pede, waving his servo as he headed towards their starting point. “If you want ‘em, you’re gonna have to come and get them!”

And off Whirl ran with Swerve under his arm, ignoring the way that Swerve was protesting as he wiggled in his grip. “Come on, Whirl, put me down!”

“But I like carrying you,” Whirl replied, his voice still just on the side of too loud, utterly revved up and filled with boundless energy. “You’re the perfect size! And frag, this is gonna be so good, babe, it’s gonna be awesome!”

“Whiiiirl,” Swerve whined with another wiggle. “You can’t do this whole fight with me under your arm!”

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” Whirl teased, but he did finally stop and put Swerve down so he had his own pedes under him again. “But we have more important challenges right now. You ready to force their servos together in loving courtship?”

“Yeah, of course,” Swerve replied distractedly as he shifted his gun between his servos, getting a good grip on it.

Whirl’s optic was suddenly in his face, so close that the little prongs beneath his optic were practically touching each side of his face.

“You don’t really sound ready to me.”

Swerve swallowed down a moment of panic before forcing his lips into a wide smile.

“Are you kidding? Of course I am! I’ve been dying to see those two together for ages! I’m so ready!”

The optic band narrowed at Swerve.

“You sure?”

“Yeah!”

Whirl didn’t look completely convinced, but moved away. And not a moment too soon, considering how Swerve’s frame had started to heat up and his spark race in his chest. Swerve would have thought that lacking a mouth or even face plate would make being so close face-to-face less intimate feeling, but oh, Primus, he had been so wrong.

The quiet question of how best to kiss Whirl was soundly shoved deep, deep down and ignored.

“Alright.” Whirl straightened completely, dropping his gun from where it was rest on his shoulder so that he now held it with both of his claws. “Then let’s get this party started!”

The two had already plotted their action plan. Divide and conquer came first, with Whirl aiming for Cyclonus and leaving Tailgate for Swerve to handle. Whirl was confident he could take Cyclonus on and beat him, and that sure, Swerve had terrible aim, but he had more experience with a gun than Tailgate did. They could one-two blast them out of the water, which would lead them towards working together more closely.

Closely being the operative word.

So once the buzzer went off signaling the start of the match, Swerve moved from one shelter to the next, glancing around walls and over short barriers as he went. Whirl wasn’t nearly so subtle, instead just hurtling over and around obstacles as he crowed Cyclonus’s name.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

A warning shot was all it took for Whirl to tuck and roll behind a wall, and he was gone. Swerve tried to jog ahead and see where he went, but it was impossible as he turned his helm this way and that, trying to find him. The only suggestion of his location was the echoing of more shots, but they were way off to Swerve’s left, and they were sporadic, almost too similar to the gun fights that Swerve had overheard during the war.

There was no doubt that Cyclonus had already zeroed in on him and they were engaged in a battle as true to war style as one could get when the bullets were made of paint. Trying to circle each other and surprise one another, the whole thing. Whirl was surely enjoying himself, and maybe Cyclonus was as well, considering the eager look that had been on his face and was now permanently etched into Swerve’s mind from the recording of Whirl’s challenge.

That line of thought was gone in an instant though when a paintball whizzed past Swerve’s face. He stumbled back, but he was too slow to find cover as a second shot went too far behind, but the third hit him square in the visor. Swerve’s vision was just a splatter of bright green with bits and pieces visible around the sides.

Swerve cursed as he finally made a run for it, lifting his free servo to his face so that he could try to wiggle his visor free. It had been ages since he had removed the piece though, even for just regular maintenance because who really followed maintenance for visors? But now he was regretting it as he bumped into the corner of a wall, yelping as he did. There was no way he could manage anything while running, so he felt his way around the structure and flopped onto his aft with his back against the wall. Swerve tried to wipe the paint away, but to no avail – it had dried almost instantly, no doubt to keep participants from cheating by trying to hide any hits they took.

“Swerve?! Are you ok?”

Swerve stiffened at Tailgate’s voice. Of course it had been the other minibot that had shot him – there was no way that Cyclonus would have missed the first two shots, and he wouldn’t have aimed for Swerve’s visor.

After a moment chewing on his bottom lip while wiggling his visor, trying hard to get it to move but proving unsuccessful, Swerve finally replied, “I’m fine! Just can’t see through my visor now!”

“Where are you? I can help!”

Whirl was gonna kill him for not taking the fight seriously, but Swerve really was having difficulties with his visor, and surely Tailgate would be able to help as a fellow mech with a visor. Maybe together they could wiggle it free. Swerve wasn’t especially excited to walk around without it, but maybe he could clean it real quick between matches.

His spark clenched tight because fraggit, he was letting Whirl down!

But still, he reached his servo back towards the corner of the wall and waved past it, and shouted, “Over here! Can you see me?”

“Where—oh! Yeah, hold on!”

Swerve sighed in relief as Tailgate jogged past the periphery of his vision, aka the only part of his vision he had now, and knelt down beside him. “I really got you good, huh?” Tailgate said, sounding pleased with himself as he moved in close, though Swerve couldn’t actually see him at the moment. “Do you have optics under there?”

“Yeah, I do. But the latches are sticking.”

“Hold on, I’ll see what I can do.”

Without preamble, Tailgate straddled Swerve’s lap and his digits went to work gently pulling and pushing and wiggling Swerve’s visor, no doubt getting a feel for the latches and where they were stuck. And thank Primus that Tailgate was focused, because Swerve’s attention was shattered as he fought against squirming under his friend’s close attention and closer frame. It was a blessing that he couldn’t see in front of him, because seeing Tailgate right now when they were sitting like this—

“Ok, ok, hold on, I got it–”

With a slow but steady pull, Swerve felt the metal pieces finally slide against each other, and it only took one last tug to pull the visor free.

Swerve winced and offlined his optics immediately because Primus, it was bright! He had forgotten in his flustered state to change his optic settings. It took digging through his processor, but the old settings were still there and took only a second to implement.

Blinking his optics online revealed Tailgate, visor in one servo and his gun in the other. The gun was even aimed at Swerve, ready to take advantage of Swerve in his moment of weakness—

But instead the other minibot was just sort of staring at him, transfixed.

Swerve’s spark squirmed, unable to handle any of the implications of this situation – his friend straddling him and staring at his bare face, so distracted that he forgot his prank—

So instead he just picked up his own gun and shot Tailgate point-blank in the middle of his chest, getting at least three or four hits in while the other minibot yelped and startled out of his distraction. Tailgate tumbled over backwards on Swerve’s legs, complaining between snickers – “Hey, I was helping you!” “You had your gun aimed at me too!” “And you stole my idea!” – while Swerve reached out to try to take his visor back.

The two of them ended up in a rolling sprawl of wrestling limbs and occasionally trying to fire off shots at each other, more of the paint getting on their frames from rolling onto freshly burst paintballs than any that actually hit each other.

And despite himself, Swerve laughed along with Tailgate, his face hurting from how widely he smiled.

“I cannot believe how useless you are.”

“He hit my visor! I couldn’t see!” Swerve protested as he scrubbed his visor with the cleaning solution Brainstorm had given him after Whirl had insisted he wouldn’t continue the matches until his teammate have his vision normal again. The protectiveness of the action had warmed Swerve’s spark, but once the solution was in his servo, Whirl had turned on him.

Thankfully it wasn’t anger he held so much as exasperation.

“So you told him where you were so you could play wrestle with him?”

“So he could help me get the visor off,” Swerve corrected. He squinted as he looked at the visor, focusing on the task instead of the whirlwind of his spark. “And I took the chance to shoot him. He’s the one who tackled me, and – and how could I resist?”

Whirl hummed, his pincers scratching under his helm.

“A fair point. He may be cute, but he’s also full of mischief and he knows how to use his cuteness to his advantage.”

“I don’t actually think he does know that–”

“That’s what he wants you to think!” Whirl started to pace. “Clearly you aren’t up to the task, so I’ll have to take him on this time around.”

“Hey!” Swerve scrambled to his pedes, lips pursed as he said, “Like you did any better! You and Cyclonus tied, so I was the one who managed to pull out a victory, even if just barely.”

“Which is why you’re gonna take Cyclonus on this time instead.” Whirl spun on his pedes and gestured at Swerve. “Cyc and I are too similar, and same goes for you and Tailgate. So obviously we have to mix it up!”

Swerve’s mouth dropped open.

“But—Cyclonus will wipe the floor with me!”

“But he won’t,” Whirl cooed, bending at his hips and stroking his pincer along Swerve’s cheek. “He’s got the biggest soft spot for cute minibots. So while he takes it easy on you, I’ll swoop in on Tailgate and cinch the next match.”

“But what if he doesn’t take it easy on me?”

Whirl’s helm cocked to one side.

“Well, we’re supposed to lose this one anyway. Just have to make it look like it was close so they give it their all in the third one, you know?”

Swerve could feel the pout on his face before he could stop it.

“You mean that you’re purposely setting me up to lose.”

“But in the most polite and gentlemechly way possible,” Whirl quipped, his optic lens a crescent of a grin.

“Are you fragging kidding me?” Swerve grumbled as he peeked around a corner. Once the match had begun, Whirl had once against sprinted across the arena, leaping over cover instead of bothering to use it, leaving Swerve to jog from corner to corner, peeking out each time. Somebody had to try to play paintball the way it was supposed to be played.

Within minutes, Swerve heard yelping and cursing up ahead, and he quickened his pace to see if Whirl needed backup. Maybe Cyclonus had gotten to Whirl before the copter could get to Tailgate, catching him off guard in his pursuit, and Whirl could actually use his back up—

The cursing had shifted into howling laughter that was undeniably Tailgate’s and with one look, Swerve spotted the minibot pinned to the ground between Whirl’s spindly legs, servos raised to cover his face while Whirl pelted him with paintball after paintball.

“Stop, that’s not fair! Come on, get off–”

“You started it by jumping me, you little rascal. You think I would be as easy as Swerve, huh?”

Tailgate just laughed more and one of his kicks finally landed at the apex where one of Whirl’s legs met his torso. The copter grunted – “That’s just low!” – and it was distraction enough that Tailgate got another kick in, and once Whirl scooted away, the minibot raised his gun to fire off several shots right at Whirl’s optic.

Alright, so maybe Whirl had a point about Tailgate being more devious than Swerve gave him credit for.

Swerve just ex-vented in exasperation as he watched Whirl, blind and cackling, grab at Tailgate to drag him back into a tumbling sort of wrestling with paintballs flying everywhere.

“I’ll admit that somebody has a weak spot for minibots,” Swerve muttered under his ventilation.

“I think that goes without saying.”

Swerve’s whole frame straightened and his armor clamped tight as he whirled around to find Cyclonus standing beside him, watching with a disinterested expression that didn’t match the brightness of his optics. A quiet, nearly inaudible ex-vent escaped Cyclonus, and it sounded amused as he tilted his face towards Swerve.

Swerve glanced at Cyclonus’s face, down at the warrior’s gun just hanging in his grip at his side, and then back up at his face.

“You’re, uh. You’re not gonna, you know–”

“Not if you don’t make me.”

“Am I the only one who knows how to actually play paintball?” Swerve asked, but it was hypothetical – the answer is apparently a glaring YES – and Cyclonus took it as such. Swerve lifted his gun to rest against his shoulder. “So then what’re we doing here? Sitting back and enjoying the show?”

There was clanking and clamoring on the other side of the wall, and giggling aplenty, but Swerve found he preferred watching Cyclonus’s schooled face, catching the way his optics shimmered and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Unless you had another idea?”

Cyclonus gave him a questioning look and Swerve shrugged.

“I mean, don’t you want to, I dunno, help your partner out there?”

Cyclonus’s optics moved again, his height allowing him to see just over the wall, and Tailgate and Whirl really had to be distracting one another if neither had noticed Cyclonus peering at them over the wall.

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well, sure, but Whirl’s having fun. I don’t want to break that up.”

“Then we’re likeminded.” And alright, there was no denying that that – the curl of both corners of Cyclonus’s lips as he gazed down at Swerve – was a smile. “They appear to be enjoying themselves, and the whole point in this exercise in enjoyment, is it not?”

Swerve was pretty sure his spark was going to burst out of his chest if it didn’t suffocate him first.

“Y-yeah, of course. But you should be having fun too, you know?”

“I am,” Cyclonus stated simply. His optics flashed with something almost dangerous looking as he continued, “Unless you would prefer to do something more similar to that?” with a slight tilt of him helm towards the chaos on the other side of the wall.

“I’m pretty sure that would offline me for good,” Swerve replied with an awkward laugh. If the warrior’s strength didn’t get the deed done, Swerve’s straining spark would probably burn itself out from having Cyclonus that close.

“I can be careful.” Cyclonus, with all the grace in the universe, settled himself to sit on the floor against the wall. He reached a servo out towards Swerve in invitation. “But in truth I would prefer to simply talk.”

“Sure! I mean, we all know how much talking I do all the time anyway, so I can definitely handle–”

Cyclonus’s optics flared and quicker than Swerve could follow, his servo snapped up to grab Swerve and yank him towards the warrior, leaving the minibot to fall into his lap while the wall behind him burst into pieces as Whirl slammed through it. Swerve couldn’t see much as he scrambled, face burning as Cyclonus held him protectively, so all he heard was, “Welp, I sure hope that wasn’t you, Itty Bitty,” Tailgate’s squeal of laughter, and then Whirl sprinting off towards the sound.

Cyclonus’s arms were solid around him, servos large and cool against Swerve’s quickly overheating frame, and if this was how Swerve died, it would be worth it.

“I cannot believe you.”

Swerve awkwardly held Whirl’s helm in one spot while so, so carefully rubbing the damp cloth against the copter’s optic to remove the paint splattering it. “Stop complaining so I can get this off, would you?”

“I can sit still and complain at the same time, so no,” Whirl insisted. “We’re gonna talk about the fact that you and Cyclonus didn’t even try! Cyclonus I get, but come on! He gave you every opening and you didn’t even think to fire one ball at him? Instead you two just sat there gossiping like a couple of seekers!”

Swerve’s face heated, but he didn’t feel any real regret. Once he had gotten himself out of Cyclonus’s lap, it had been nice to just sit and chat, and to every once in a while comment on how ridiculous Whirl and Tailgate were.

“He suggested it so how could I say no?”

Whirl harrumphed.

“Of course he did. Cute guy like you – why wouldn’t he want to take the chance to chat you up?”

“Th-that’s not what it was,” Swerve insisted, biting down on his lip as he tried to focus on how he was finally getting enough layers of paint off that he could see the glow of Whirl’s optic light up the bright pink paint from behind. “He’s in love with Tailgate, not me.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s blind.”

“Do you ever stop joking?” Another couple of wipes revealed Whirl’s optic directly, bright and wholly focused on Swerve’s face. The minibot swallowed around the sudden anxiety that gripped him and refocused on his task, leaning in close so he could see the streaks still clinging to the glass.

“I’m not right now.”

“Yes you are.”

The light of Whirl’s optic narrowed.

“If you think I won’t physically fight you about this, then you have somehow misread who I am. I willpunch your face to prove how cute it is.”

“Whirl–”

“I’m serious–”

“No, I am!” Swerve said louder than he had intended, his voice somehow making it out crystal clear even though his intake felt tight and choked. He removed his servo from Whirl’s optic, his digits squeezing the rag too tightly because oh no, it was all getting to be too much, he could feel everything starting to overflow. If he could just cut this all off before it went further, then they could finish up this final match and Swerve would be free to make a run for it before making an idiot of himself. “I’m serious that you need to stop joking about that, ok? I’m already dealing with a lot of emotions right now and I don’t need pity compliments or–”

“Pity? That’s what you think—primus, you’re a moron.”

Humiliation burned in Swerve’s chest as he tried to step away. “Or jokes or whatever, it’s fine, I just don’t–”

Swerve interrupted himself with a squeak when Whirl’s pincer grasped him by the chin, not allowing him to look away when the copter leaned his optic in close.

“Look, let’s make something clear, Swerve. I don’t do pity. Gave that scrap up a long, long time ago. When I say something, it’s either the truth or it’s a lie that’s funny to me. And sure, sometimes it’s funny to me because I’m a mean mech. But this?” Whirl leaned that much closer and Swerve couldn’t keep his engine from whining with some emotion he couldn’t name. “I’m not gonna be mean about this because I get it. Mecha don’t get more unlovable than me, so I get it. Feelings like this hurt, but they’re gonna choose each other and we’re gonna survive that, and we’ll be their friends or whatever, and someday some other mech will be smart enough to choose you, because you, Swerve, are cute.”

Swerve’s spark ached and he could feel the corners of his optics burn behind his visor.

“You’re not unlovable,” he whispered, and Whirl faked a snorting noise.

“Now who’s pitying who?” Before Swerve could answer though, Whirl let go of his chin and started to sit back on his pedes to give the minibot space. “Look, just splash some paint back on my optic. I’ll say nobody gets near my optic and the game is over and we’ll get outta here–”

Something broke inside Swerve.

One of his servos reached out to grab the side of Whirl’s helm while the other pressed down on his cockpit, angling it down so that Swerve could lean in close again. Earlier thoughts flooded his processor and yes, there was no way that Swerve could reach the bottom lip of Whirl’s optic casing without the prongs stabbing into Swerve’s cheeks. But the prongs were easy to reach—

Swerve’s lips pressed a hurried kiss against the inner edge of one prong, the other pressed along his cheek.

Whirl was still talking, but his voice quieted further and further, distracted as he finally trailed off.

His optic was blindingly bright.

“Are—are you kissing me?”

Swerve jerked back upright.

“Uh. Maybe?” Swerve managed before sucking his bottom lip between his dentae. His processor was roiling with regret as Whirl stared at him, shell-shocked and confused.

“Why?”

With a painful clench of his spark, Swerve took another step back before forcing a laugh from his vocalizer, ignoring how hollow it sounded. “You know, that’s a great question, and I’ll get back to you with an answer later, but right now I should – I’m just gonna go, I think.”

Whirl’s optic cycled, watching him closely as the copter shifted, ready to stand up, but Swerve was faster. The minibot looked away and while he didn’t run, his steps were quick and his strides as long as his short legs allowed. It was only when he heard Whirl calling after him – “Whoa, whoa, Swerve, hold on!” – that Swerve picked up the pace.

The overhead speaker clicked on and Brainstorm’s voice echoed across the stadium room, “IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT OVER THERE?”

Panic whipped up around the regret and shame that had Swerve in a vice-like grip as he heard Cyclonus and Tailgate shouting questions of concern. No, no, no, Swerve was not prepared to face any of them, needed to just slip away and hide forever—

Cyclonus slid to a stop from behind a barrier in front of Swerve, optics brightening upon seeing him, though the lines of his face were sharp with concern. His mouth opened to ask a question – maybe he asked it, because Swerve would swear that the rushing pulse of energon through his frame was messing with his audials, so maybe he hadn’t even registered the sound – and Swerve just tried to move around him.

“—Swerve, wait.”

Swerve hesitated and then Cyclonus’s servo grasped him by the shoulder, solid on his tire, and Swerve felt the cleanser that had flooded over from his optics slip past his visor to streak down his cheek.

And then everything seemed to happen at once.

Tailgate must have been practically at Cyclonus’s heels because he was on Swerve in seconds, wiping the cleanser away while watching Swerve’s face intently, “Hey, hey, are you—what’s wrong? Shh, it’s ok, you’re ok, come here,” and Swerve was too weak to resist the other minibot’s arms wrapping around him in a hug.

“Oh good, you caught him! I gotta talk to Swerve–”

“What did you do?” Cyclonus growled, his frame stomping away from Swerve’s side towards where he had heard Whirl.

“Oh frag you. I didn’t do anything. Or at least I don’t think I did – hey, hey!”

“WHOA, NO ACTUAL FIGHTING IS ALLOWED IN THERE. MAGNUS WILL KILL ME.”

Swerve jolted, trying to push against Tailgate so he could turn around, stammering, “W-wait! Whirl didn’t do anything, really!”

He was embarrassed by how shaky his voice sounded, even to himself. Even if they couldn’t see his optics, there was no doubt that they all knew by voice alone that Swerve was crying, overwhelmed by a deluge of emotions he no longer had control over.

Whirl and Cyclonus had gone still, the warrior’s servo still tightly hooked into some plating by Whirl’s neck, clearly in the middle of intimidating the copter. Both though were watching Swerve closely though.

Swerve wanted to just melt into the floor right then and there.

Tailgate reached down to grab one of his servos and squeezed it.

“Swerve?”

Swerve bent his helm, staring at the ground as he bit his bottom lip.

“We were trying to get you two together,” he admittedly dejectedly, not daring to look up even when Tailgate’s systems hiccupped. “Y-you – you guys deserve each other, and should be together, and—and Whirl and I made the plan together, and I thought I could handle it, but then I developed a crush on him too, so with all three of you it’s all been a lot to handle, and–”

“A what?” Whirl asked, completely disbelieving.

Beside him, Cyclonus asked, confused, “Too?”

Swerve shuddered and felt another wave of crying threatening to spill over.

But then Tailgate’s servo tightened around Swerve’s and tugged him towards him again, though Swerve refused to look up from the floor.

“I like you too, Swerve.”

The minibot’s helm snapped up, his visor flaring as he gapped at Tailgate, stammering, “What?”

“I like you,” Tailgate repeated as his visor flickered anxiously, his voice aiming for confidence but ending up somewhere around false bravado. The thought that Tailgate was admitting it now to take some pressure off Swerve came and went and Swerve’s spark swelled at the idea. “I have for a while now. That’s actually why I haven’t told Cyclonus that I uh, well.” The other minibot’s trailed off as he glanced over at Cyclonus, and Swerve might have in any other circumstance snickered about how shocked the warrior looked. As it was, he felt almost numb from shock himself, and he wondered if Cyclonus wasn’t in a similar situation. “I didn’t know if that would be ok with you, so I thought it would be better if I didn’t tell you either of you how I felt, and just – I dunno, ignore it I guess?”

Cyclonus’s expression softened. “You thought I would not be happy for you two?” he asked with more vulnerability than Swerve thought possible from Cyclonus.

“No, that’s not – I don’t like just Swerve.”

“He likes you too, idiot,” Whirl muttered, elbowing Cyclonus, and the warrior didn’t even frown at him, in fact nearly looked thankful for the clarification.

This time it was Swerve’s turn to squeeze Tailgate’s servo, and with that boost, Tailgate looked at Cyclonus, his voice wavering a bit as he admitted, “I love you, Cyclonus. A-and I like Swerve. And I didn’t know if that would ruin our friendships or possible relationship or–”

“You thought I’d demand monogamy?” Tailgate nodded and Cyclonus finally took a step away from Whirl and towards the minibots, and then another. Swerve tried to step away as Cyclonus knelt by Tailgate, but Tailgate’s servo held solid as the warrior cradled Tailgate’s helm and leaned in. “I have lived far too long to assume sparks are so limited in their capacity for affection.”

Tailgate’s visor flashed happily. “Soooooo, then do you…?”

“I do.”

Swerve’s spark ached with joy to see Cyclonus press a chaste kiss to the top of Tailgate’s helm. It nearly went into spasms when Cyclonus then glanced at him and his lips curled into a small smirk.

“Besides, it would seem we have similar tastes.”

Tailgate giggled and Swerve felt like he was overheating as he asked, “Wait, really?”

“I fragging told you,” Whirl commented, closer than before but still distanced from the three. “He loves a cute minibot.”

“Not just minibots,” Cyclonus scoffed.

“Who else then?”

Cyclonus ex-vented heavily as he gave Whirl a look. The copter’s optic rebooted once, and then twice, and then glowed wide and bright as he pointed at himself with one of his claws. When Cyclonus didn’t protest, Whirl said, “Wait, really?”

“It’s complicated, but yes.”

“You are super intriguing,” Tailgate agreed, glancing from Cyclonus to Swerve and finally to Whirl. “I mean, I’m interested too, so, you know. I guess we all really do have similar tastes, huh?”

Whirl was, for one of the first times that Swerve had ever seen him, completely motionless.

And something in that moment – Tailgate’s servo intertwined with his own while Cyclonus looked, of all things, abashed by his own admissions of his emotions, and Whirl looked completely and utterly starstruck by the very concept that the three mecha before him were genuinely interested in him – had Swerve’s face splitting into a genuine grin.

“It’s your turn now,” Swerve said, his spark giving a little nervous palpitation as he reached his free servo out towards Whirl. The copter looked at him, optic glowing with something all too akin to nervousness.

But, slowly, the light curled into that giddy crescent that Swerve had come to love.

“We should get the four of us somewhere a little more private if you wanna know what I want to do to the three of you.”

Swerve grinned and grabbed Whirl by the pincer as the four of them made a hasty retreat to Brainstorm’s whining discontent.

“DO ANY OF YOU KNOW HOW TO PLAY FRAGGING PAINTBALL?!”

#fanfiction #maccadam #tfidw #this fic could also be titled: swerve is a useless lesbian #they all are honestly

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thatcanadianfangirl · 7 years

Text

*Isaac Lahey* Power Of Mates

Isaac Lahey X Girl

Request: Challenge

Plot: Mates bring out the softer and more vulnerable side or each other. That’s was main character does to the murderous alpha Isaac.

Word Count: 2,039

A/N: This imagine, or what ever it is. I'm still knew to writing and Tumblr. Is for the What If writing challenge made by @sdavid09. My prompt is What if Isaac was the leader of his own pack? God bless her soul because she had to do a little research for me.

Siting comfortably on my home’s couch. Silence wrapped around the room like a blanket in the McCall house hold. The pack meeting in slow process, but still continuing.

Glancing at Scott’s feet as he paced through the living room impatiently. Chewing lightly on his finger nails eagerly, you could almost see the concentrated thoughts write over his head in big bold letters. He’ s buried deep inside his chaotic mind.

Lydia and Stiles sitting side by side leaning into each other closely. Whispering their thoughts away together, I secretly smiled to myself. seeing in their eyes they adored one another. Shipping them in the dark was no shame. Liam sat on the couch across from me, fiddle with his thumbs violently. orbs wide as he bit his lip, rapidly thinking. Tapping his foot loudly on the floor sounding like a harsh slap.Everyone else engaged into something, blocking an ounce of the sound out. Malia was placed beside the pack’s pup, playing a game with a determined facial expression. The light sounds of swish, wee, and woo told me she was compelled by the angry birds game.

The fast movement of Liam interrupted my calmed down mind. Jumping up from the love seat, his fiddling was no longer keeping him chained down. “ I can’t wait anymore, you called a pack meeting. What’s going on?” He rambled out like it’ s been caged down for as long as he remembered. He breathed out and relaxed before taking a seat back down.

Scott stopped in his tracks, Lydia and Stiles stopped the flow of their words, Malia letting her phone drop into her lap. Most of the attention growing on the obnoxious puppy, Mine stayed on the alpha. Watching his every move, his eyes carefully becoming red and slowly turning back to a soft brown.

You're right,” Scott Started, running his hand from the base of his neck then through his hair. “There is another pack in town.” He stated gently , letting us take in the new information we’ve been waiting for.

My heart skipped a single beat, making me think of my original pack. The one I left, the one that used to torture and brutally abuse humans. Just for the joy of watching them suffer. I couldn't stand there and hear human’s desperate cries for help. it wasn't who I was or ever will be, I ran from my brother, my alpha, and my pack.

Scott has said this a million times before, but my mind still thought it was them. If it was them, would they be back for me? That was a stupid question because deep down I new he would be here for me. It scared my heart till the last minute I knew for sure it wasn't his pack.

Never looking back was the best choice I’ve made. Scott and Stiles found me and hesitantly took me in under their wings. It’s wasn't long before Melissa started to take care of me like her own. I will forever be grateful for her pure heart.

“I would of called you guys in sooner, but I don't know what they’re here for. I wanted to know before I told you anything. Their scents are closer towards the preserve, they're slowly spreading towards the city. “ Scott informed us,

“Why don't we go see if they’re a threat at least.’ Malia said shrugging.

“I don't know how many there are.”

My heart clenched harder, my old pack had at least thirty members. He wouldn't risk having every single strong werewolf member out there. Giving a chance for the weaker ones to get attacked . I couldn't help, but be sure it was them.

“There shouldn't be anymore than ten.” I spoke up getting everyone's attention. Scott’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at me.

“How would you know? You didn't know this pack exist until three minutes ago.” Stiles spat out at me sending me a harsh glare. In the past month he’s been giving me the darker side of him. I couldn't figure the real reason why, it was almost like a press of a button.

“I have a feel this is Isaac’s pack.” I stated confidently as a rush of cold washed over my body.

“who is Isaac?” Lydia asked with curiosity colored in her eyes.

“My previous Alpha.”

Tight clothing making me feel more comfortable than I should be in them. Light jeans reaching under my belly button, accompanied by a blue floral shirt. The pair making my body curve a little more than it usual is.

I picked at my nails letting them talk with a small click. What if Isaac is here for me? Wanting for me to be the alpha female by his side, I only got the title and not the power that was suppose to come along with it. I was terrified of him, that being the reason I ran and hide for as long as I can.

“Stop it before you explode for paranoia.” Lydia spoke over her car radio, she pulled the stirring wheel to the left as she turned into the school parking lot. My hands dropped to my lap forcing a real smile to my lips. “You're right Lyds, I need to breath a little and stop thinking about him.” My tone more light and fluffy as we got out of her blue Toyota.

Trying to convince myself I was over thinking this I walked with Lydia towards the school with small conversation. The tiny tingle at the deep bottom of my heart told me otherwise.

More than half way through the day, the worried thoughts of Isaac drifted away into a rocky shore. Now my mind was focused on the small urge to pee. Not wanting to interrupt the whole class I started tapping my foot repeatedly on the floor quietly.

I’ve done that for awhile before Stiles who was sitting beside me on the left, nudged me harshly in the rib. Causing me to yelp out in pain, Everyone in the class turned their head towards me. The teacher lifting his eyebrows at me, I gulped preparing myself to talk.

“May I be excused?” I squeaked out feeling the sting in my ribs spread, Stiles is human, but Jesus can he jab hard. Mr. Allister nodded his head stiffly before continuing his lesson. I turned my head at Stiles shooting him a death glare, “Watch it Stilinski.” I growled out, he shrugged “Sorry omega, didn't realize you were that weak.” His tone dark and husky.

‘What did I ever do to you?” asked sounding disparate and breathless.

“Not notice me.” He said gently right before turning his head back to the lesson, Not giving me a chance to reply to him. I furrowed my eyebrows as I finally made it out of the class room. What did he even mean by that?

Was Stiles secretly interested in me and I didn't happen to see it? Don't get me wrong he’s cute and dorky, but He’s always been pining for Lydia, my now best friend. He’ s in a relationship with her, why would he hold a grudge?

The hallways filled with painful silence, a light ringing in my ears making me turn my head. Looking for the sound then realize that the sound was in my head. my footsteps and the vague murmurs from the closed classroom doors was the only sound heard.

Now spotting the light pink sign with the person on the front wearing a dress, girls reading underneath her. I hurried my pace feeling the urge to pee build like a sand castle, fast and unpleasant. stretching out towards the metal handle and almost feeling the coldness, but not quite there before my body was whisked fast.

my heart racing with speed virtually missing several beats. My back slamming into the hallway wall forced by another being, my eyes locking in dark blue eyes. No matter how long I haven't seen those eyes, I will never forget who they belonged to..

My murderous mate.

I whimpered under his body, shocked that I didn't catch his intoxicating scent and still couldn't. His touch burning my skin forcing sparks to erupt through out my whole body. his right hand capturing both my hands as the other one rested on the wall, trapping me either way.

A playful smirk appeared on his face feeling me struggle under his grip, but falling badly. “Try as you will, but I’m never letting you leave again.” His husky and thick tone sent scared tingles to my spine.

“You have no control over me.” I spat harshly at him, hiding the terrified feeling settling in my stomach. Feeling the power beginning to run natural in my veins from the presence of him. Our bond connecting easily, souls happier together after being away from one another for a long amount of time. No longer feeling terrified of him as I flicked my claws and ripped my wrists from his hands.

He backed away a little with wide eyes slightly surprised by my action. In the presence of your mate you got more stronger, more powerful. The pair becoming more dangerous than another pack. Alpha soul mates being unstoppable, and it’ s a huge risk to the human kind.

“I finally found you, my Luna, Don't think for a minute I’d let you go.” He spoke letting me step away from him, stunned he didn't force me back into the wall again. Understanding my power was equal with his for the first time.

“Why would I come back to your pack? Watch humans get harmed and killed when you could be saving their lives.”

“If you said anything about it I'd stop, for you.” he spoke trying to reach for me.

“I did do that, you slashed my cheek and told me never to do it again. You were the one in control and you didn't let me forget it.” I chocked out feeling my throat tighten.

“I loved you, love you. I didn't everything for you.” it physically hurt to heard him say that, he was too blind.

“No! Isaac you were too blinded by your blood thirst for power you didn't realize you were hurting me. That’s the reason I left.” I spoke harshly amazed no one came into the hall to see what was going on. I turned and stormed down the hall, hearing him following me.

“I love you!” he hollered.

I immediately stopped in my tracks, closing my eyes and sighing. Those were the words I was scared he’d say, It made them more believable that he sounded desperate for me to stay. his words were true and I hated it.

“I looked for you the whole time you were gone, Without you I felt my soul grow weak and I became feared by the pack.”

“That’s who you are.” My breath hitched as I spoke.

“It hurts even more when you say it.” He mumbled, but to me it was clear as if he whispered in my ear.

“But I can’t help that my heart longs for you.” I said turning back around facing him. his dark shade of blue eyes transforming into a lighter shade. he’s powerful. I just couldn't ignore his vulnerable side. It was long before a smirked plastered on his lips.

“That’ my Luna.” He power walked towards me, grabbing behind my neck pulled me towards his lips, like mine were the last drop of water. Our lips moving Harshly in sync, my hands slowly traveling up his arms as his moved down to my hips. Giving them a quick squeeze before pulling me closer practically pulling us to one.

The ringing of the bell was the open gate, letting students flood through the halls. We pulled away from each other letting air back into our lungs. “From this moment on everything is about to change.” Isaac spoke, I smiled. “Good.” feeling happy, a feeling I’ve never real felt till now.

At the last second my eyes landed on Stiles, Leaning against a few lockers. His body tense as his face held disappointment and right now I could care less. I have my mate and I couldn't think of anything better.

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